#best case scenario i take a pill for the rest of my life; worst case scenario my thyroid gets removed )(and i still take a pill)

[bizlybebo]

this disability shit sucks because physically i am in the shitter but mentally i am on top of the world so all i can do when i’m not touching grass is lie under heated blanket and stare at my ceiling really hard thinking about numerous jrwi pd aus

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Last Promise ~ JJK [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 3.9K

↬↬↬Genre: ANGST, Sad ending, mentions of death, blood, car accident, heart conditions

↬↬↬Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader

↬↬↬ A/N: The original request was for Y/N to have an illness I can’t and will never write about and they said this would be okay to change so I hope this is okay for you.

The sun was shining through the curtains in the kitchen so brightly that Jungkook could barely read the report he was supposed to be working on for work that morning. 

"You've got a letter, I think it's from Y/n," Jisoo's voice didn't sound best pleased with the fact that you had written him a letter Jungkook was just as confused about it as she was. He hadn't heard from you in months but now all of a sudden you were writing him and handwritten letter? 

"I wonder what it is?" He questioned but Jisoo had no time to sit and talk about what the letter from you could and couldn't be about, she was late to work so she gave him and a quick kiss before leaving the apartment that they were sharing together now. He groaned flicking open the envelope. He was met with your usual handwriting and he smiled as he saw the way you wrote his name was still the same in the cute handwriting you had. It made his heart lurch as he remembered all the notes you used to put on his lunch for work.

Jungkook, 

Before you throw this letter down and discard it along with everything else I thought you held close to you, you need to read all of this and read it properly. There's something you need to know about why I didn't give you the blood that day in the hospital...The day my whole life came falling apart ...

The machine you were laid inside was doing the routine beeping that it always did, you'd been in and out of the machine so much that it no longer scared you when you had to go for a screening. The beeps always used to scare you, made you feel like there was something else wrong with you.

"Everything looks okay Y/n," The doctor called out over the beeping, the machine began to wind down and you could hear everything inside of it shutting off before you were pulled out by a nurse who handed you a glass of water before leaving the room. Your doctor came out from behind his glass screen holding a clipboard and pen at the ready, 

"Are you still taking the medications?" The doctor was doing his job you knew that but the questions were always boring, asking the same routine questions that he had to do once a month while you gave him all of the same answers that you'd been doing for the last four years. 

"Yes," You whispered showing him the box of pills that you kept in your handbag, you took so many different pills in the day it was no wonder that you didn't rattle whenever you took a step anywhere.

"Are they effecting you any differently?" You shook your head even though it wasn't an answer he wanted, he wanted words to come from your lips not just a simple nodding of the head.

"No side effects. I'm fine like I have been for the last four years." You mumbled putting on your shoes as you jumped down from the bed you'd been sitting on. You put it down to it being his job to be this protective over his patients but you hadn't had a problem in the last four years yet you still had to take pills every day and would have to for the rest of your life thanks to the Dilated Cardiomyopathy that made your heart weaker than most peoples. It made your life a little harder than most but you weren't going to sit back and let it get you down you weren't going to let it hold you back from anything either, 

"Are you still doing your regular exercises?" He meant the swimming he'd suggested to you, promising you that it was the only sport that would be good for your ''condition'' without damaging you or your body or making your heart any worse.

"I go swimming once a week with my boyfriend, speaking of which I'm late." He rolled his eyes playfully at you and told you to go writing down the answers he knew to his questions, you'd been seeing him for so long he was more like a friend than a doctor but he was close to you. Private care wasn't cheap but it was the only way to get the treatment you needed for your weakened heart with someone who would take all of this seriously with you.

"Hey Kookie, I know I'm late and you're driving but call me when you get this." You said into his answer phone as you made your way out of the hospital and towards the exit doors, he was supposed to be meeting you at a local park before you went out on a date. He didn't know about your heart condition, you and he had only been together for a year and you didn't want to tell him. Though your family had all told you it was something he needed to know you didn't want to risk him treating you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. That was how everyone else treated you. Like you were something that was bound to break at any second when it couldn't have been any further from the truth. As long as you were taking your medications, eating right and behaving like someone who wanted to live you would be fine. No one had to know. Especially not Jungkook.

"Y/n?!" Your best friends voice came through the phone panicked after you finally picked up her call, you'd had 15 missed calls from her along with some voicemails but you'd assumed they weren't anything important until you heard her sobs,

"What's wrong? I was just in an appointment." She didn't know either, no one knew except family and even then it had only been your parents along with your siblings since they had been the ones to find you when you got sick.

"Do you not check the news?! Or your Phone?!" She screamed at you from down the other end of the phone and you knew it was urgent, she'd never spoken to you like this unless something was really bothering her. 

"What's wrong?" You froze outside the hospital doors when you saw an ambulance parked up outside, your best friend standing in a cream dress as she was covered in blood. 

"W-What are you doing here?! What happened?!" Your phone dropped to the floor smashing against the pavement as she turned around to see you standing there, her face was covered in blood as if she'd been the one to get hurt but the way she was standing it couldn't have been her. 

"It's not me, it's Jungkook." As soon as his name left her lips panic washed over your body, the amount of blood she was covered in meant it wasn't good. The ambulance and rushing workers were adding up to something terrible happening. Your body went into shock, freezing you from working as she wasted no time in asking why you were already in the hospital you'd told them before that you did volunteer work there from time to time, she began rushing you through the building ignoring your constant questioning about what was wrong with Jungkook and why she was covered in presumably his blood.

"Jisoo!" You screamed slamming your foot down against the tiled floor in the hallway you demand answers from her instead of the whimpers she was letting out. All you'd managed to get from her were the few words, 

"Car, accident, blood, surprise, and dying." So your mind wasn't putting the best case scenario right in front of you right now.

"Jisoo please," You begged her looking into her eyes with your giant pleading ones waiting for some kind of answer that would make sense and didn't make your heart thud against your chest and make it hurt. Stress wasn't good for you but right now stress was all you were getting from her, 

"Jungkook. We were driving to the park, we were going to surprise you when...When this car it...It came out of nowhere Y/n." The worst thing your brain could come up with was that it was him involved in the accident but if he was so badly injured why hadn't your friend been? 

"Why aren't you hurt?" She shook her head, 

"He wasn't wearing a seatbelt, he smashed his...Oh my god, his head." She broke down into tears and a doctor came out of the room from behind you, 

"We've managed to keep him stable, are any of you a match for his blood type?" Jisoo looked at you knowing that you were an identical match and so was she, 

"I-I am but I can't-" She scoffed at you, 

"She's scared of a little needle but we're both a match we can donate." A doctor lead you into another small room that was on the same hallway, a nurse then began getting you and your friend ready to take some blood from you, 

"I can't do this, please I have to talk to someone first-" Your best friend began grumbling something under her breath at you but you ignored her pulling a nurse to the side to tell her about the medications you were on. Some of the prevented you from donating your blood and you knew that if Jungkook got your blood it could fuck him up even more than he already was from the accident.

When Jungkook woke up the next day his eyes met yours and you smiled sweetly in his direction rubbing your fingers over his knuckles in a soothing way, you'd come to a decision while he was under that you were going to tell him the real reason why you hadn't been able to donate your blood to him. It was going to have to be told sooner or later and you would rather have him know now rather than never knowing. 

"Kookie," You breathed seeing his eyes staring at you but he didn't respond to the nickname as he usually would. Normally the nickname you had for him was met with a giant smile back or at least an acknowledgement this time it was as if hearing the nickname you had for him caused him pain, you were going to put it down to the accident until the door opened.

"I brought us some cookies, water for your stomach and then I- Oh. Y/n." You frowned hearing the confused tone coming from your best friend, Jungkook had been out for a day and you'd gone home to get him some clothes. 

"What?" You whispered standing up from the chair, you saw the look that she was giving Jungkook and it filled you with dread. 

"I was just- wondering what you were doing here." She placed the food and drink down onto a table in the room, Jungkook tried to speak but it was as if his voice was going. Which was happening due to the amount of sleep he'd been getting since the accident. 

"You haven't done it yet?"

"Done what yet?" You questioned as she directed the question at your boyfriend, you already knew what was coming. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach that something bad was about to happen, his eyes locked onto yours again and this time you were met with sadness behind them,

"Jungkook?" 

"Jisoo can you give us some space please?" He grumbled at her and she left the room, not giving you a second glance as she threw her hair over her shoulder. 

"You wouldn't give me your blood-"

"Yeah, and I have a very good reason-"

"Why? Were you just going to let me bleed out and die on the hospital floor!?" You knew he was angry but you wanted him to know why you hadn't donated before he began yelling at you, your chest was already starting to hurt from the yelling and the look he was giving you.

"Jisoo! She risked herself giving me more blood than she was supposed to!" Jisoo had given him a lot of blood you knew that but that wasn't your fault, you couldn't give him your blood unless he wanted to die that way. 

"Jungkook please let me explain-"

"Explain what?! Jisoo already did it for you! You wanted me to die, didn't you? It would save you having to break up with me, but look" I'm doing it for you. We're over." What he was saying didn't make any sense, why would you break up with him when you adored him? You loved everything about him and he thought you'd let him just die.

"Jungkook are you even listening to yourself!? Why would I break up with you-" The door opened and Jisoo was standing there looking pretty proud of herself, so much for friendship. 

"You're not supposed to cause him stress, it can make him worse. She walked over to his side of the bed and ran her hand over his forehead as if she'd done it a million times before, it only made the stabbing pain in your chest worse to watch the way they acted together.

Days had passed by in the blink of an eye, you'd spent a week trying to get everything out of your shared apartment with Jungkook before he got home from the hospital - they'd kept him over to make sure he was recovering well from the blood transfusion. You wanted to get out of there before he and Jisoo came back from the hospital but you were unlucky in that, they'd come home right as you were putting the final boxes into the boot of your car. Seeing them together broke your heart and not just in the descriptive way of the word but in the physical sense too. Once they saw you there they kissed in front of you as if trying to add salt into the wound Jisoo knew what she was doing and she was going to make sure you knew damn well that you'd missed out on Jungkook, you cried the whole drive back to your parent's house where you were greeted with open arms. You'd half expected them to tell you they told you so but it never came mostly because they were too afraid to make this worse for you.

"You can talk to me about this sweetie, I understand what you're going through." Your mother whispered one night as you laid awake on the sofa, you were watching some random reality show that was on the TV. Your family was worried about you, all of the stress could have lead to something seriously wrong with your heart.

"I'm fine, mum." You lied sitting up from the sofa and turning to face the stairs debating going up them to sleep or just to pass out on the sofa like you had done the night before and the night before that, 

"I'm just tired." Another lie. The whole time you'd been back in the family home you'd done nothing but sleep, hoping that somehow you would wake up and all of this would be some kind of highly realistic dream and was one of the side effects from your medication but that never came. 

"I know something is wrong and that's fine, your best friend just stole your boyfriend." You knew your mother was only trying to make things better but in turn, was somehow making everything feel so much worse. 

"I'm fine, I'm going to go to bed." Her hand on your wrist stopped you from moving away from her and your eyes landed on the floor, 

"You forgot your meds," You took the box she was holding out for you and headed towards the staircase, everything was hitting you hard. The thought of never taking your meds again was crawling back into your brain, convincing you that there was no need for them but there was every need. Your father sat down beside you mum holding her in his arms as she sobbed against his chest, your heart wouldn't be able to handle this if you kept this act up and they were concerned for you.

A few months had passed by and things weren't getting any easier, it was getting harder for you to get up every day when you were faced with Jisoo and Jungkook everywhere, your brother had begun talking about them a lot whenever he thought you weren't around. You'd gone for a walk to the shop to clear your head and to pick up a refill on your medication, you were sick of the constant questioning from your mother and father along with your brother's comments about Jungkook, you didn't hold it against him for breaking up with you but you wished he would at least listen to your reasoning behind not giving him any of your blood.

"That's what I said? She's nothing but a selfish money grabber." You frowned hearing Jisoo's voice in the shop you were in, you were around the corner picking out some fruit for the night to munch on since junk food wasn't good for you. 

"Babe she wasn't that bad-" Jungkook was there too and their voices sounded like they were coming closer, you were going to be cornered in the middle of a supermarket full of people. Coming face to face with your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend wasn't something you'd put on the top of your to-do list that day.

"There she is now, why don't we ask her," You wanted the ground to swallow you whole as soon as you heard Jisoo acknowledge your presence within the store. Jungkook looked at you and once he locked eyes you knew he was like a whole new person now, you were met with a cold stare from him as he raised his eyebrows as if challenging you to try and defend yourself. As you tried to come up with something to say you began to stumble over your words and dropped the basket onto the floor you were carrying, everything spilt onto the floor including the medication which you grabbed before making a quick exit. 

"Runaway! Just like you always did you, coward!" Jisoo screamed but Jungkook had seen the medication bottle you grabbed and wondered what you were doing with it, he remembered you being the healthiest person in the world when you were together. Your mother watched in horror as you came in that night and threw your meds onto the floor, running away exclaiming that you no longer wanted them anymore, it only made her and your father worried for you more.

They had every right to be worried less than a month later you were laid up in a hospital bed with your family gathered around you, some were crying while others acted as though they weren't bothered. Your body was hooked up to so many different machines that you'd made a joke to your younger brother that you were turning into a robot - it was an attempt at cheering him up though it hadn't worked very well he ended up crying and never wanting to go back to your room again. The worst part of all of this was that you knew you were going and you knew you were going to die sometime this week, 

"Mum, can you get me some of the stationary from my bag? Please," You whispered looking at her as she glanced up from her book. She had been the only one not to leave your side throughout the process she felt like it was her fault since she'd been the one to find you on the bathroom floor. 

"What for?" The pad of paper was placed down in front of you as you sat up in the bed, you took the pen she was giving you and wrote his name in big bold writing along the front of the envelope. 

"Y/n...Is that wise?" She only wanted what was best for you, 

"Mum...We both know I don't have much time left." Was all you said to her before you began writing the letter, everything you'd been thought of feeling since the breakup and that day in the hospital.

Jungkook was crying as he stared at the last couple sentences of the paper in his hands, the letter had read like some kind of book to him. As if he'd been there when everything you'd said had happened. 

If you're reading this and my mum didn't mess up the timing today is the day of my funeral, I didn't want you there but not out of spite. Despite everything you and Jisoo put me through for the last couple months of my life I know it wasn't your fault. Neither of you knew about my heart condition and that was on me. I'd originally planned to tell you before Jisoo walked in on us when you were in the hospital but after you ended things I didn't - excuse the pun I guess - have the heart to do that. 

Jungkook made his way towards your house a couple of hours later, your mother was waiting on the doorstep for him since he'd called ahead of time. 

"I didn't-"

"I know." She whispered not letting him finish his sentence, she knew he had no idea you were sick. She opened her arms for him to be able to hug her before you'd died you'd begged her not to hold it against him for what happened that none of it had been his fault. Anything could have caused your heart to act up the way it did, even your doctor said that it could have been the medications that stopped taking effect, it didn't have to be Jungkook and Jisoo that just happened to coincide with the timing.

"I didn't know if I'd have known-"

"Jungkook before she went she made me promise not to let you blame yourself, she made me promise to look after you." He could imagine it clearly in his head. You sitting on the edge of the bed and making sure everyone else was taken cared of before you even thought of yourself it was what you did, something that you always did because you never wanted to put your needs before anyone else. You put everyone else's needs before your own because you were that type of person, the good kind. Guilt and regret ran through his body as he thought about you being alone on your last couple of days. Images of the way he'd talked about you to people ran through his head, he didn't want to be cruel to you but to him, but the way he'd seen it you'd left him to die instead of giving him the blood he needed to survive looking back on it now he could see why you'd done that.

"You should come inside, get you some hot chocolate." She mumbled standing up from the floor it hadn't been her intention to keep her promise at first but she knew you meant it. You'd loved Jungkook with everything within your body so she wasn't going to disrespect your last wish, she helped him up from the ground and turned him around to face the front door. He knew there was nothing that was ever going to make him feel better after what he'd done to you but he was going to try and make things up by helping your family whenever he could. 

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lyoongx​ @lynnthevirgo​ @fan-ati--c​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter eight

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

Chapter seven was published yesterday, in case you missed it! I was too lazy to make a tumblr post.

*

The term rollercoaster didn’t seem strong enough to describe the last six weeks of Chloe’s life. 

Seeing Beca again. Leaving Marco. Getting clean. Finding out she was pregnant. 

She felt like she needed to stop and take a minute to remind herself to breathe, but the weight pressing on her chest prevented her from sucking enough oxygen into her lungs.

“You’re…” Beca blinked twice in slow succession. “...pregnant. With a baby.” She grimaced in the next beat, releasing a breath. “Sorry, I-- I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Chloe couldn't blame her for being shocked. She swallowed thickly and cleared the lump from her throat. “I made an appointment for an abortion. Tomorrow.”

Tears sprang up into her eyes before she could stop them, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to muffle the sob itching to come out. 

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out, shaking her head. 

“Chlo…” Beca murmured, setting a hand over Chloe’s back and the other one on Chloe’s. “You don’t need to apologize. What you’re going through is incredibly hard, and… if an abortion is what you feel is the best option, then that’s what you should do.” 

Chloe had always wanted to have kids one day, but this was the worst possible timing. She didn’t have a place to raise that baby, or a job, not to mention that she was a recovering addict. 

She nodded along to Beca’s words, as though attempting to convince herself further. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Beca asked. “To the appointment?” 

Chloe hesitated. “I don’t want you to miss work because of me.” 

“You’re more important than work,” Beca argued softly as her thumb stroked Chloe’s knuckles back and forth. “And I don’t think you should be doing this on your own, you know? But I don’t want to overstep either, so it’s completely up to you.” 

Chloe sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away. “I… I think I’d like it if you could be there.” 

“Done,” Beca instantly said, nodding firmly. She cleared her throat following a few beats of silence. “So um, is there anything you should do for your recovery? Now that you’re out of rehab, I mean.” 

“The therapist there recommended one in the city, I need to call and book an appointment. I’m going to my first NA meeting in two days. Otherwise, I’ve been told having a routine could really help? Like go for a morning walk, do some yoga, cook, clean… that sort of stuff. But all I want to do right now is crash for a few hours.” 

Beca nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Let me know if I can do anything to make things easier on you, okay?” 

Chloe managed a small smile despite how heavy her heart felt. “I’m already so grateful for what you’re doing for me, Bec.” 

“It’s what friends do. Help each other out.” 

Chloe ended up sleeping for four hours straight. She had never felt so exhausted in her life, and she guessed it was a mix of the physical and emotional toll of pregnancy and rehab finally hitting her. She didn’t eat much for dinner and mostly pushed her food around in her plate, knowing most of it would come back up as it had for the last few days. 

She and Beca got to the clinic ten minutes before Chloe’s appointment that next morning, and after filling out the paperwork, they were led into an exam room, where Chloe was asked to change into a paper gown. She sat down on the edge of the bed once she was changed, her eyes sweeping over the many baby pictures lining the wall. 

Her attention shifted to the door when it opened, a middle-aged woman stepping inside. 

“Hello, Chloe,” she greeted with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m Dr. Harris.” 

“Hi,” Chloe returned quietly. “This is my friend Beca.” 

“Nice to meet you both,” Dr. Harris said as she approached. “I was told you’re here to terminate your pregnancy?”

“I-- yes.” 

“Okay. As one of the nurses probably told you over the phone, I need to check how far along you are first so we can figure out if a procedure is required,” she explained, setting her chart down and snapping on a pair of gloves. “When was your last period?” 

“I-- I’m not sure.”

She used to take the pill. But when you’re fortunate if you remember to eat one meal a day, it’s also easy to forget to renew your birth control prescription. That was just another detail among the many in her life that seemingly had ceased to have consequences or meaning the further she slipped down that rabbit hole. 

“Okay, that’s alright. Can you lie down please, and put your feet in the stirrups? I need to do a vaginal ultrasound so we can see better.” 

Chloe nodded, scooting back and lifting her feet. She reached for Beca’s hand as nerves sprouted in her belly, immensely grateful for her presence. 

“This might not be the most comfortable feeling, but I’ll try to be as gentle as possible,” Dr. Harris said as she placed a condom over the wand before slowly inserting it. She tapped a few keys on the ultrasound machine, gently moving the wand around until a clear image popped up on the screen. It was another minute before she spoke again. “Okay… given the size of the embryo, you’re about seven weeks along, Chloe.” 

Chloe puffed out a breath as a kaleidoscope of emotions swept through her. This was her baby, up there on the screen, and the sight of it suddenly made her question everything and ask something that she would regret shortly after. “Can I-- can I listen to the heartbeat?”

The doctor glanced at her. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed. “I’m sure.” 

Nodding, Dr. Harris pushed another key, and the most beautiful sound filled the room a second later. A steady, strong woosh woosh. Tears sprang to Chloe’s eyes, and she felt a squeeze to her hand as she attempted not to let them fall. Her own heart constricted in her chest, so hard it was nearly painful. 

“Turn if off, please,” she croaked out, shaking her head as her lids slammed shut, those tears sliding down her cheeks and curling around her chin. 

The doctor shut off the machine and withdrew the wand a few seconds later. “You can put your legs down, Chloe.” 

Chloe nodded and straightened, taking the tissue Beca offered her and blowing her nose with it. 

Dr. Harris watched on, her eyes soft. “You still have some time before making a decision.”

“Did it look healthy?” She found herself asking, then figured she should explain. “I just got out of rehab. I did cocaine and drank a fair amount of alcohol on a daily basis up until four weeks ago. And I was given um...” Chloe scratched her forehead as she raked her brain for the medication name. “Gabapentin for the first two weeks of rehab to help with withdrawal.” 

Dr. Harris’ features remained professional as she nodded slowly. “The heartbeat is strong, and I didn’t catch anything abnormal. The risk of miscarriage is more present than for other pregnancies as the drugs crossed through the placenta when you were still using, and that up to twelve weeks. Problems could occur during and after the pregnancy. But the baby could also be perfectly healthy, since you stopped in the early stages of pregnancy. It’s hard to tell.” 

Chloe’s mind swam with all these possible scenarios, and she didn’t know whether to listen to her brain or her gut feeling. “How-- how much time do I have to decide?” 

Dr. Harris slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Abortion is legal up to 25 weeks in New York state. Up to ten weeks, you can take a pill, past that a surgical procedure is needed.” 

Chloe sniffled, swiping the back of her hand under her runny nose. “Okay. Thank you.” 

Dr. Harris cast them both a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. I’ll leave informational pamphlets at the desk for you to read, as well as my phone number should you have any questions.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as the doctor walked out, then focused back on Chloe, reaching out to brush her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed? I can go get those pamphlets in the meantime.” 

Chloe nodded, her insides caving in as soon as the door clicked shut behind Beca. She gripped the edges of the exam cot hard, her nails digging into the leather and her breathing turning chopped as a mix of panic and sadness unleashed within her. 

It all seemed unfair, but she knew her own recklessness was the root of the situation she found herself in. 

She eventually managed to calm herself down enough to get dressed, meeting Beca by the desk ten minutes later. The walk home was silent, and Chloe was grateful Beca didn’t push her to talk. She didn’t even know how to process her own thoughts, let alone speaking them aloud. 

A few days passed. Chloe slept a lot, and tried to keep herself busy the rest of the time. One hour each morning consisted of hugging the toilet while she puked her guts out, and the rest of her day was spent craving that warm embrace of the rush cocaine once brought her. 

The temptation was there. She knew there was a store on the corner of Beca’s street that sold booze, and she knew there was enough change in the bowl by the front door to afford at least a couple beers. 

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to. Not after seeing that tiny blob on that screen and listening to its heartbeat, because the biggest part of her wanted this. She knew it deep down, but she couldn’t silence those same voices that had been making her life hell for the past four years, telling her that she was bound to fail at this like she did with everything else. 

Chloe woke up that Saturday morning to a churning stomach. Scrambling out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom across the hall and made it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the ceramic bowl.

She slumped back against the wall afterwards, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she reached out to flush the toilet with the other. Chloe glanced up when Beca appeared around the corner, a sympathetic smile curving her lips as she stepped closer and handed Chloe a steaming mug. 

“Ginger tea. I read it helps with morning sickness.”

Chloe accepted it with a quiet thank you. She cradled the mug between her palms, her head tilting back against the tile behind her as she exhaled. “You can sit, if you want.”

Beca nodded and lowered herself next to her in the tight space, their thighs and shoulders touching. “Do you… want to talk?”

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath. “I feel… lost,” she croaked out, her head rolling to the side to look at Beca. “Before the appointment, I was so sure terminating the pregnancy was the wise option, but then I saw it on that screen and heard its heartbeat and…”

“You realized the wise decision is maybe not what you want?” Beca supplied when Chloe trailed off. 

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” Chloe whispered before she broke eye-contact, focusing on the mug she held in her hands as she blinked away the tears filling her eyes. “But it’s crazy to even consider it, right? I don’t have a job, I don’t have my own place, and I’m still battling with my own mind because I crave something. All day, every day since my last hit.”

“But you didn’t cave,” Beca pointed out softly. “I know it’s only been four days since you got out of rehab, but you didn’t cave, and that’s already an accomplishment of its own.” 

“I just… I don’t want to harm this baby more than I’ve possibly already done,” Chloe admitted quietly. 

Beca nodded, and reached out to take one of Chloe’s hands, tugging it into her lap gently. “If keeping this baby is what you want to do, those things you’re worried about have solutions. You may not have a place of your own, but I’m not kicking you out. Even with a baby. This is home for you as long as you want or need it. A job shouldn’t be too difficult to find. Maybe it won’t be the greatest one on earth to start with, but it will be something to get your head back in the game,” she paused, tilting her head to the side and seeking Chloe’s gaze. “And what you just said? About not caving because of the baby? I can’t think of a better proof of your ability to be a great mom. You’re already putting that baby before your own needs, and I can’t even fathom how great and out of control those can become, and I think that’s admirable. And for what it’s worth, I think you should trust what your gut tells you. I listened to my brain instead of my heart once, and ended up making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” 

Chloe let Beca’s words resonate within her, basking in the temporary peace they brought her. There was no doubt about where her gut feeling lay on this.

“I feel like I’m turning your life upside down,” she whispered after a while, sniffling. “You’ve done so much for me already, I don’t want to keep abusing from your generosity, or jeopardize your relationship with Sarah.” 

“You’re not abusing anything, Chlo. I promise,” Beca murmured with a squeeze to her hand. A stretch of silence settled between them, until Beca spoke again. “You still have time to think about it. Just know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll support it.” 

Over the next week, Chloe found herself picturing what it would be like, caring and nurturing for that baby and raising them. For the first time in five years, cocaine wasn’t the first thing she thought about when she woke up, or the last thing on her mind before going to sleep. 

For the first time in five years, it felt like she had purpose, in trying her best to be the mom her child deserved. That meant staying clean, leaving those demons behind where they belonged, and getting her life back together one day at a time, for that innocent being that came to light in the darkest time of her life. 

She woke up earlier than usual that morning, and headed to the bathroom to pee, pausing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. A soft gasp escaped as she lifted her shirt and ran her palm over the barely perceptible swell in her lower belly. It wasn’t there yesterday, and Chloe felt tears pool in her eyes. 

Happy ones. 

“Hey there, little one,” she croaked out, her heart swelling against her ribcage as she rubbed slow circles over her skin. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?” 

She puffed out a long breath, a watery smile breaking through. 

One day at a time. 

[kimjongdaely]

Escape [Chapter 2]

Superhero!AU/Villain!AU

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, torture

Summary: All your life you were caged and tortured, a never-ending cycle of pain. You no longer remember a life beyond that. All you wanted to do was escape this cruel fate. But finally finding your escape and being saved by a masked criminal was just the beginning of your nightmares. Can you ever really be free?

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5

It was rather peaceful that night. Kai had ordered pizza (his fridge was empty, save for a few bottles of water for some reason), insisting I eat something before bed. It was delicious, to say the least, since I’ve never really eaten “normal food”— according to Kai—in my time at the lab.

I was always given pills in place of food. It was something that Dr. Walters had invented, pills that tasted like nothing but would give me the nutrients I needed to survive, keeping me alive well enough. So pizza was indeed the most delicious thing I’ve eaten so far. I wonder what other delicacies I’m missing out on.

After that, he ushered me to the bathroom, threw me a towel and some clothes.

“Get clean.” He ordered, shooing me away. “You look awful.”

Looking at myself in the mirror, I agree. My hair is matted, my skin covered in grime. The testing clothes I wear, a tight back jumpsuit, is torn in several places, probably also covered in blood. I look so much older than I remember being, bags under my eyes and skin deathly pale. It’s hard to believe I made it so far in such a condition. I can hardly recognize myself—the last time I saw myself in a mirror was so long ago.

Stepping into the shower, letting hot water hit my skin, I hiss. The wounds on my back stings, and I try my best to wash off the filth so they don’t get infected, hopefully. Couldn’t help getting my new bandages wet.

I sigh in relief once I begin lathering soap into my hair, glad to feel clean after so long. I feel human at last.

After my relaxing shower, I step out and wrap myself in the blanket, feeling warm and safe and relaxed. Now that I am, I suddenly feel so sleepy.

Doing my best to pat myself dry despite my many wounds, I put on the clothes Kai handed me. A big baggy white t-shirt and equally baggy sweats. I tie the string around my waist as tightly as possible so it doesn’t fall down. I blow dry my hair, feeling how soft it’s become after a good wash compared to the monstrosity it was before.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I let myself smile. I still look awful, but better. Way better.

Heading out, I find Kai typing on his laptop, looking very focused. I fidget, wondering what I should do. “Um...”

“You can take the bed.” Kai says without looking up. “You must be tired.”

“Oh, no it’s okay.” I hurriedly say. “I can sleep on the sofa.”

He taps a key, looking up at me. His lips are pulled into an amused smile. “I can’t let a pretty girl sleep on the couch. Don’t worry and just go to sleep. I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself.” If I could see his eyes he might’ve winked at me.

“I can’t tell if you’re a good person or not.” I mumble under my breath as Kai gets up, setting his laptop onto the coffee table.

“I’m not a good person. Just in it for the money, sweetheart.” He pinches my cheek as he walks by, heading into the bathroom. “By the way, my clothes look good on you.”

The bathroom door slams shut before I could hit him. His laughter is muffled on the other side.

I hear water running, and now that I’m alone in the room, I wonder what I should do. Well, he did give me permission to sleep, so I suppose that’s what I’ll do. I head over to the bed, climbing in tentatively. It’s soft and smooth, and I wrap the blankets around my body like a safe cocoon. I sigh into the pillows, fatigue instantly catching up to me. I have never felt so comfortable in my life, and part of my brain kicks into high alert. I won’t allow myself to fall deeply asleep, only enough to get the rest I need to fight another day. Years of being in the lab trained me this way. I never know when I’ll in danger and need to protect myself.

I can’t trust Kai, after all.

I hear the shower stop. Muffled sounds of him moving around, quiet humming. The door clicks open, and I am immensely curious about what he looks like. I manage a peak while feigning sleep. He has a towel around his bare shoulders, water dripping down his dark hair. He wears a pair of black sweatpants but, to my disappointment, I can’t see his face from here.

He stands with his back facing me, dries his hair more thoroughly with the towel and then puts his mask back on.

Seems he isn’t taking any chances either.

I see him begin to turn towards me, so I close my eyes and even out my breathing. I feel him checking me, making sure I’m asleep before he moves away. There’s a quiet click, and then a soft female voice can be heard.

“Hey Kat.” Kai greets, most likely talking into a phone. There’s a pause as Kat speaks. “Yeah, she’s at the apartment.” Another pause. “No need, I’ll handle it. Yeah, okay, bye.”

He hangs up, letting out a sigh. There’s some shuffling and I assume he’s getting comfortable on the couch. Light dances across the wall, which I think is from the TV, though there’s no sound.

“Go to sleep.” His voice rings in the quiet room, making me stiffen. He knew? I choose to stay quiet, lying very still and trying not to react. He sighs again, shifting. “Seriously, sleep. You need it, and so do I. You’re safe here.”

Safe.

I swallow, the word getting stuck in my throat. I am safe. It’s such a difficult idea to wrap my head around because I’ve never been safe before. My life has been threatened every waking moment of my life and I’m just so...exhausted.

To hear him say that...was comforting. It brought tears to my eyes which I quickly blinked away, taking a quiet breath to calm myself. In all honesty, I don’t know if I’m safe. I don’t know if I can trust Kai. I don’t know who paid him to save me.

But for now, I believe I am safe.

I close my eyes, and I let myself sleep.

Voices. Light.

I breathe in, blinking awake. The ceiling is unfamiliar. I lie on something soft, not the hard concrete floor I am used to. There are no bars or lasers keeping me confined. The room smells of aftershave and baked goods, rather than sweat and vomit. No men in lab coats. No cameras. No Dr. Walters.

I choke out a gasp, and someone is beside me in an instant. “Oh thank goodness!”

It’s a voice I don’t recognize. I turn my head, looking at a girl about my age. Her eyes are bright green, hazel hair falling to her shoulders. She wears fingerless black gloves, a simple t-shirt and jeans.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Now that’s a voice I recognize. I glance over as Kai joins the girl, his full suit on and his arms crossed over his chest. He grins down on me. “Got us worried. You were out for two days.”

I blink, then shoot up. Two days!? There’s no way I would let myself stay out for so long. “What?”

“You must’ve been exhausted.�� The girl says, tapping something on her tablet. “That mad scientist sure did a number on you.”

I wince at the mention of him. 

“Anyways,” Kai clears his throat, then gestures at the girl. “This is Katrina, Kat for short. She’s my partner in crime.”

“The behind the scenes girl.” Kat says, grinning and looking quite proud. “I make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

Kai scoffs. They seem close, quite the team if I’m honest.

“So, how do you feel?” Kai asks, probably scrutinizing me from under his mask.

“Better.” I flex my hands, rolling my shoulder. Nothing really hurts anymore. I notice my bandages have been changed. “A lot better, thanks. By the way, why doesn’t Kat wear a mask?”

“I don’t have to.” She answers. “No one knows about me...well, except you now.”

I frown. “And you’re not worried I’ll tell someone?”

“You can’t.” She says, rather sternly. Her eyes change, darkening on me. “You’re an illegal experiment by Dr. Walters. If the authority finds out about you, you’ll be confined for more testing to see what he did to you. Worst case scenario, you’ll be put down. From what I believe, that’s the last thing you want.”

The shock must be evident on my face because her expression softens and she puts a hand on my shoulder. “If you don’t tell on us, we won’t tell on you. Don’t worry.”

I sigh. There’s nothing I can say in this situation. My hands are tied and these criminals are the only ones I can rely on right now. 

“Well, since you’re better I think it’s best you go.” Kai says, flexing his gloved hands, nodding at Kat. “We got paid yesterday, so you’re free to do whatever.”

“What?” I gasp as I watch them head towards the door, probably off for another mission. “But I don’t—”

“Not my problem.” He calls back, giving me a two-fingered salute before they disappear into the night. I stare after them with my jaw hanging open, dazed by the suddenness.

He’s not serious, is he? Is he really kicking me out without any prior warning? I wrap my arms around myself, trembling as panic kicks in. Dammit, dammit! I knew I shouldn’t have let myself relax. How could I?

Those two are criminals, I’m only here because they were paid to. It’s only right that I go after they’re paid. They haven’t done anything wrong.

But the feeling of betrayal still sinks my stomach. I take a deep breath. Alright, first things first. I grab my old clothes, slipping them back on. It’s tight and uncomfortable and reeks with years of abuse. But it’s black so it’ll allow me to blend in better with the night.

I’ll have to move fast, find a place to stay. I don’t have money so any inns, motels or hotels are out of the question. I’ll have to find a place hidden from sight and where people don’t go to often.

With that in mind, I leave.

The night air is rather cold, leaving me shivering. The rips in my jumpsuit leaves me feeling exposed. I ignore it and begin to run. Now that my strength is back, my speed is much quicker. I jump across rooftops, stopping and hiding every once in a while to listen for anyone following me.

I can never be too careful.

I head towards the darkened part of the city, the slums. Slinking down to an alleyway, it smells of smoke, piss and vomit. I cough involuntarily, the smell reminiscent of my time in the lab. My living conditions were not much better than here. No one cared about my hygiene or health, doing only enough to keep me alive for their next test. There were special occasions where I would be treated better, given solid food rather than pills and switched to a cleaner cell, all because my next test would be highly draining and I was required to have strength to withstand it.

I walk past the slumped figures on the street, faces covered in dark shadows, clothes torn and stained. A fight breaks out nearby, and I turn the other way as quickly as I can.

I come across an old abandoned apartment-like structure. It looks like it’s about to crumble with a touch, the doors and windows boarded up. They are no match for my strength. I pull the wooden boards apart, accidentally breaking the weak door as well, wincing when it crashes onto the floor, kicking up dust. I cover my mouth with my hands, squinting into the dark place and coughing against the dust.

As the dust begins to settle again, I turn and try to pick up the door, putting it back in place as best as I can. Having some form of a door is better than nothing, after all.

Once that’s done—kinda—I step into the building carefully. Water drips down the ceiling, creating a puddle. There are sounds of rats scurrying around. I check the stairs, tapping it with my foot and deciding not to take my chances. I’ll have to stay on the ground floor.

I shiver again, wrapping my arms around myself as I curl up in a corner. It’s even colder in here, but at least I have some sort of roof over my head. I can stay here for a while until I figure out what to do next.

I tuck my knees tight against my chest, resting my face against them and sigh. As bad as things are, I’ll take this over being in the lab any day.

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Escape Mini Masterlist

A/N: Poor Eve. Can’t believe I’m kicking her out so early in the story.

Tags: @ninibears-erigom @boldcrayoncatblog​ @cardtak​ @beetlejopp​

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©kimjongdaely

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[startledstars]

What were your negative experiences with spells and magic?

Hi,

It seems you stumbled across my older posts warning against astrology. Maybe you want to know more about the ‘witchcraft’ mentioned here.

One experience in particular made me realize that magic was real, evil, and not to be experimented with.

I’ve had hypothyroidism since I was 15. Although this condition can be healed naturally, my doctor told me hormone replacement in the form of levothyroxine was the only viable solution. She told me I’d have to take a pill first thing in the morning every day for the rest of my life, and didn’t even consider other options, such as diet, stress management, selenium, etc. (all of which I discovered later.)

Every six months, I need to go to the doctor, and give them a blood sample so they can “ensure my prescription still works.” If I don’t go, they hold my prescription hostage, and without it, I gain weight, lose hair, deal with brain fog and a number of other symptoms.

Once you start hormone replacement for thyroid issues, your window for finding a natural, real cure, instead of being another steady source of income for your general practitioner/big pharma is pretty much closed.

It may seem like a small inconvenience to some, but I despised this leash, this leaden chain. I am forced to allow someone to violate my body (that’s what sticking a needle into someone’s arm is. It’s a violation, no matter how ‘noble’ or ‘necessary’ the cause.) against my will, lest they deny me medication that allows me to function.

(They take your blood even if there’s no indication that your prescription needs to be adjusted. I tried to talk to my doctor about it and she told me I had no choice in the matter.)

So, l tried a sigil spell I saw on YouTube. Worst case scenario, nothing would happen. Best case scenario, I’d finally be free. After ‘casting’ the spell, I was compelled to take an Iodine supplement by what I thought was my intuition.

I was wrong on both counts; about taking the supplement, and about thinking it was my own intuition.

Magic doesn’t work in a vacuum. You ‘set an intention,’ unknowingly opening yourself up to demonic entities, which influence you to take certain actions. If the spell works, that means the entity influencing you sees some benefit for itself from your perceived success. Basically, it thinks it can use you to lead others away from God. If the spell backfires, the entity sees more benefits more from harming you. By casting the spell, you consent to the entity’s influence, judgement (to ‘help’ or harm, either way, the endgame is to steal, kill, and destroy your very soul) and consequences of the actions you take.

My thyroid levels had been steady for seven years when I cast the spell and took the iodine. A few months later, my hormones were drastically thrown off balance, and my prescription increased from 50mcg to 88mcg (which is a HUGE jump.) I dealt with severe weight gain, hair loss, mood swings, brain fog, etc. It turns out that for some hypothyroid cases, iodine helps, but for others, it causes your body to attack your thyroid gland.

Keep in mind that up to this point, I’d experimented with numerous supplements (NAC, Licorice, Magnesium, melatonin, and a long list of other natural remedies) for other health problems. Usually, I saw positive to neutral results. Nothing ever backfired or left me with permanent damage like iodine. This was a stark, unexpected outlier after my years of study and experimentation with alternate medicine without the aid of any spell.

There were other things like nightmares, intrusive thoughts, sleep paralysis episodes, chronic fatigue that went away after I cut all ties with magic and astrology and begged Jesus Christ to save me from myself, my sins, and this fallen, evil world. Although my thyroid issue is yet to be healed, I pray about it regularly, and strongly believe the Lord will deliver me from this ailment and from being a slave to the medical establishment. He can not lie, and it is written that “If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” (John 8:36)

(Though even if this doesn’t come to pass: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28. I am at peace with God’s decisions, because He only does what’s best for me.)

Thank you for this question, kind stranger. I hope this clarifies what magic is, and why it’s considered an abomination to the Lord. When He tells you to stay away from something, like a father keeping his child from touching fire or running with scissors, it’s always and only for your benefit.

God bless you and if you are a believer in Jesus, please pray for Him to heal me so I can better serve Him and strengthen my testimony. Have a wonderful day!

[enchantedlokii]

Lost

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: graphic injury, compartment syndrome

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Betty Brant, Tony Stark, May Parker, FRIDAY

Mentioned: Happy Hogan

@whumptober2020 Day Twenty: Lost

“‘Come hiking with us,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ they said.”

Peter huffed as he finally managed to drag himself to the overhang he had found. He sat down harshly, rolling up his pant leg to see how swollen it was. “This is just how I wanted to spend my senior trip.”

For their senior trip, Peter’s class had decided to travel to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. So far, it had been amazing. They had gone to Dollywood the first day, then spent the second day in the city. The third day they had gone to Clingman’s Dome, the highest point in the Appalachian Mountains, and Cade’s Cove, where they had seen deer and bears.

Today was supposed to be a free day. They were allowed to go wherever they wanted as long as they stayed in a group of four or more. That’s how Peter ended up on a hiking trail with Ned, MJ, and Betty. How he got separated from them was a longer story.

“I’m going to scout ahead,” Peter told the three as they stopped to rest. With his powers, he was able to go much longer than his friends without needing to rest. Sure, Ned and MJ knew this and would understand if he decided to climb some trees or swing from the branches with his webs, but Betty had no idea he was Spider-Man. Getting ahead would give him a chance to let out some of his energy.

“Please be careful,” Michelle told him, squeezing his hand. “You have your bear spray?”

“Right here,” he told her, patting the can in the pocket of his backpack. “I’ll be okay.”

Except, he wasn’t. Peter may be Spider-Man. He may be strong and fast and heck, he could lift a bus, but he was a klutz by nature. The boy had caught his foot on a root and ended up tumbling down a gorge. He knew that, in reality, he was lucky. Because anyone else probably wouldn’t have gotten out with nothing more than a broken leg and some cuts and bruises, but he was still lost in the woods and in extreme pain without a single bar of cell service. And to top it all off, it was starting to rain.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured to himself. “Let’s weigh our options.”

Peter propped his leg out in front of him, trying his best to keep it straight for when his powers decided to start mending the bone. Chances are, he would have to have it rebroken and set either way, but maybe he would get lucky. “You can either stay here and wait, see if anyone finds you, or you can try to make it back to the trail with a broken leg.”

He sighed and shook his backpack off, opening it up and taking out a water bottle, hoping it would ease his nausea. He had already puked once, immediately after he stopped rolling and felt the pain in his leg, and he couldn’t risk getting dehydrated out here. It was summer, and he only had a few bottles of water packed. He didn’t have much food either, just a few sandwiches and bags of chips, but he knew he could go longer without food than water and he wasn’t too hungry with his stomach in knots.

“Worst case scenario staying here is that they never find you and you starve to death or get eaten by a bear,” he continued talking to himself. “Worst case scenario trying to get back to the trail is you get lost deeper in the forest and make it harder for them to find you.”

He sighed, unsure. “Okay, okay, it’s okay,” he told himself. “You can’t get worked up and panic. That’s not going to make this any better.”

He continued thinking for a moment before finally reaching a decision. For now, at least, he would stay at the overhang. He would rest, give his leg time to heal, and wait to see if help arrived. They would start close to the trail, so he needed to stay as close as he could. With the rain, he was bound to fall again and get injured worse anyway.

If they didn’t come by the time he was out of supplies, he would start trying to find a way out on his own, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

“God, that hurts,” Peter huffed, wincing as his leg throbbed. He dug through his bag carefully, relieved when he saw the high-powered pain pills that he had packed. He had almost not brought them on the trip, knowing that he wouldn’t be fighting crime on vacation, but Tony had insisted he take them because accidents happen. Sure enough, they had.

“They’re going to freak out when they find out,” he murmured. “Him and May both. . .”

“Boss, you’re getting a call from May Parker,” FRIDAY announced, catching Tony off guard. He raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his work.

“Yeah? Put her through,” he told her. Then, when he heard a click. “Hello, May.”

“Tony,” she started. Immediately he knew something was wrong from the tone of her voice. She sounded as if she were crying, her voice breaking a bit. “I just got a call from Peter’s teacher.”

He felt his blood run cold at that sentence. Peter was on a school trip nearly twelve hours away from New York City right now. “What? What happened? Did he get hurt? I can have a plane ready in five minutes if we need to get down there.”

“They can’t find him,” she cried. “He-he was hiking with his friends. Ned said he went to scout ahead and they never caught up to him. He just disappeared. He’s not— he’s not answering his phone.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony started, taking a shaky breath. He knew that he had to keep his panic at bay if he was going to do anything to help. “Okay, I— I’m going to get a plane ready for you. I’ll have Happy pick you up and bring you here. I’m going to go ahead and fly down there and help look for him, okay?”

“Wh-what if— what if he—”

“May, listen to me,” he told her. He heard her hum in reply so he continued. “I promise you that I will not stop until we find him, okay? Day or night. We’re going to find him and bring him home safe.”

“O-okay,” she replied. “Okay. Thank you, Tony. I-I’m sorry, I just— I’m just—”

“You’re worried,” he said softly. “It’s okay. I am too, but it’s going to be alright. Don’t forget what all he can do. He can take care of himself until we find him. He’ll be okay.”

Peter had never been in so much pain in his life. Days had passed since his fall, and his leg wasn’t getting any better. In fact, he thought it was getting worse. The medicine he had barely touched the pain, and the swelling wasn’t going down at all. He was sure that he had a fever, too, making it almost impossible to sleep. Already, he had drunk nearly all of his water, but he hadn’t been able to touch his food since the first day, being in too much pain to have the slightest bit of an appetite.

The fact that no one had found him yet terrified him. At this point, he was sure that he had some sort of infection in his leg, maybe even compartment syndrome. If that was the case, he knew that there was a good chance he wouldn’t survive. Even with his powers, he would need surgery, and quick. For a normal person, it would probably already be too late.

As his condition worsened, Peter started to lose track of time. With that, he was losing hope. How could he even be sure they were still looking for him? They may have given up at this point, thinking a bear had gotten him. It wasn’t an unlikely possibility, after all.

“What a way to go out,” he mumbled to himself one night. His fever was keeping him awake, as usual, and his painkillers were doing nothing for him anymore. “Spider-Man dies from a broken leg. How would have thought?”

He sighed and turned his head to look out at the trees. He was too weak to sit up at this point, and he was sure that meant he wasn’t going to last much longer without proper treatment. If no one found him in the next day or two, he was a goner.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna go. . .”

It had been five days since Peter went missing. At this point, most people had given up. The local officials told Tony that most people didn’t survive the first night. Most people who went missing on hiking trails had gotten injured or been attacked by the area’s wildlife. They said that at this point it would be more of a retrieval than a rescue, but he knew that he had to keep looking.

Because Peter wasn’t normal. He would last longer than most people, even if he was injured. He wouldn’t believe that he was dead unless he saw it for himself. He couldn’t. Peter wasn’t someone he was willing to give up on like that.

The whole time, he had only slept once. He searched for three days and nights like he said he would before finally giving himself a few hours of rest. Then he set out again, searching for any sign of Peter. “Pete?” he called, ducking under a branch. “Peter?”

Most times, there was no response. This time, however, he thought he heard a faint reply somewhere in the distance. “Peter?” he called a bit louder. “Are you there?”

He strained to hear, closing his eyes in an attempt to focus his senses. Sure enough, he heard a very weak reply. “H’llo?”

“Peter!” Tony hurried in that direction, soon seeing a rock overhang that could be used as a shelter from the elements. “Peter?”

“‘M here,” he heard the boy reply. Sure enough, the sound came from the rock. He rushed that way and found Peter laying inside, struggling to try to sit up. His cheeks were flushed red, and one of his legs looked swollen and jutted out at an awkward angle, but he still tried to sit up. A small smile crossed his face when he saw Tony coming towards him. “T’ny.”

“Hey, Buddy,” he said softly, carefully brushing the bangs of his dirty hair to the side. His eyes were glassy from fever, and he seemed a bit out of it, but it gave him hope at the fact that he was lucid enough to recognize him. He let out a small breath of relief. “God, you’re still alive.”

“Mhm,” Peter hummed. “M’ le’s bro’en. ‘S no’ goo’.”

“Yeah, Kiddo, I see that,” he told him, his voice a bit wet. He could tell that Peter was in pain despite his obvious effort to hide it. He stood up slowly and backed up, tapping the casing on his chest to let his suit form around him. He made sure to keep the helmet off, having no need for it right now. “I’m going to pick you up, alright? It’s probably going to hurt, and I’m so sorry for that, but we’ve gotta get you to a hospital.”

“Mmkay,” Peter murmured. “‘S a’ight.”

“Okay,” he said, bending down and carefully sliding a hand under his back and another under his legs. “Let’s get you out of here.”

When Peter woke up, his head felt foggy. He wasn’t sure where he was at first, but he knew he was safe. He felt cooler than he remembered feeling before, and he wasn’t in any pain. It was nice. Perfect after all that he had just been through.

Feeling a hand in his, Peter forced his weak muscles to move and squeeze it. He smiled when the grip tightened slightly and a hand moved to brush his cheek. “Hi, Baby.”

Peter forced his eyes open, smiling as he saw May sitting beside him. “May,” he murmured, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as he spoke. He didn’t sound coherent, but he could tell from May’s smile she understood him.

“I’m here, Sweetie,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

Peter gave her a lopsided smile before turning his head slowly. He squinted as his eyes landed on the couch that was pressed to the wall. Tony was laying there, fast asleep, holding something in his arms. Peter’s mind was too drugged to realize that it was one of his blankets and another was laying on him now in the hospital bed.

“He looked for you for five days,” May told him, noticing her nephew’s staring. She continued when he turned to look at her again. “He only slept five hours the whole time you were missing. He fell asleep an hour after you came out of surgery and hasn’t stirred since.”

Peter blinked at her in reply. He thought he could faintly remember the man finding him, but he wasn’t sure. He had a fever at the time, and now his head felt like it was filled with cotton. “Go back to sleep, Sweetie,” May insisted, kissing his forehead. “We’ll talk once you more with it, okay?”

“Mmkay,” he murmured. “Love you, May.”

“I love you too, Peter,” she replied softly. “So much.”

[toribun]

αγάπη

Words :: 6,6k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, talk about social anxiety, some bad talk about chimchim, a mention about becoming lesbian, future angst, future smut.

CHAPTER 2

the phone call with your mom was definitely the most stressful phone call you had to take in your life. It was even worse than the time you almost sat the whole apartment on fire when you tried to make your friend eggs and bacon for her birthday breakfast. 

She had gotten worried demanding that you gave her your soulmates whole name and the number to Mrs.Kim. You knew you couldn’t give her that though. It would only make matters worse. You loved your mother to death, but she was a bit aggressive when it came to her children. You knew if you gave your mother Mrs.Kims number that she would lash out and probably be sued by the company because of harassment. And you knew she didn’t have enough money saved up to pay for compensation or a good lawyer.

You hadn’t slept much that night. You were too nervous about the meeting with Mrs.Kim and about your neighbor’s reaction to you having visitors. You were supposed to lay low, but everyone in your town knew you never had people over. you were kind of known in town as the young girl that wasn’t capable of making any friends.But most of all you were nervous about how many people Mrs.Kim would bring with her. She said she would bring a full security team. How many people is that? Would they just stand outside your house all day? Because that would definitely bring you an unnecessary amount of attention from your neighbors. 

You hadn’t read anything more about Jimin in your letter nor have you searched for any information about him or his company on the internet. You figured that you would be better of going in the blind about him as much as everybody else does when they get matched. You didn’t need to put more pressure on yourself than you already have. You had started to worry about how he took it when he found out that a girl that works as a bartender and barely made enough money to pay her bills was his soulmate. He must have been so embarrassed. Maybe that why Mrs. Kim and a whole fucking security team were on their way to you at this very moment. Maybe their job was to hide you from the media because Jimin didn’t want anyone to find out about his poor and unsuccessful soulmate. 

Okay... relax (y/n), no need to make yourself hate the guy before you had even been introduced to him. Just take a chill pill. 

When the clock hit ten you heard a knock on your door. A woman, probably in her early thirties was looking at you through your glass door as you walked down the stairs. She had to be Mrs.Kim. Four men all dressed in black was standing on both sides behind her.

When you opened the door, it took approximately five seconds before the lady and all the men had taken off their shoes and made their way into your house. Two of the men dragged your curtains over the glass doors before they turned around with their back to the doors. Then they bowed and said something in a language you didn’t understand. 

You didn’t say anything back nor did you bow back. Why did they bow? That’s so weird. Where you suppose to bow back, or would they think you look like a desperate foreigner trying to fit into the group. You figured a smile would be the best thing to do. You tried to give them the friendliest smile you were able to pull off, to try to make a good first impression. You didn’t want them to think of you as rude.

When you turned around to face the rest of the strangers, one of the men was on his way up the stairs. The woman and the last man of the four were just standing in the middle of your living room. They had smiled as soon as you had turned toward them. They bowed to, but the woman not as low as the man. 

“Hello (y/n), it’s so good to see you in person instead of just talking over the phone. We apologize for rushing in so fast, we didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yeah well too late for that Mrs.Kim. You shouldn’t have closed the curtains if you wanted me to relax. Now it just looks like you have a mafia boss on a visit with a plan to torture and kill you. You were almost afraid that one of your neighbors would call the cops on them. 

“Ah.. yeah.. umm...hi... I am (y/n), but you probably already know that. I mean you wouldn’t barge in here if you didn’t know who I was” 

Mrs.Kim laughs. She had a beautiful smile. Pearl white teeth and a little dimple, only on her left side though. Her eyes almost disappeared completely when she laughed, you could only see a little gap in her eyes where beautiful dark irises poked through. She had to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. If you hadn’t just gotten your soulmate letter you would consider going lesbian for that masterpiece of a human being. 

“No, we certainly wouldn’t. We have all just been a little on edge since we left Korea. Seeing that all your curtains were left completely open for all your neighbors to see just made us a little nervous. It is our job to keep your privacy private from now on after all. And I can promise you that I take my job very seriously as you probably will notice in the next couple of days. I will do my absolute best to protect you (y/n).”

She bowed again, this time a little lower than the first. Then she walked a little closer to you.

“Ah.. so, me and my team haven’t introduced our self’s properly jet. I can start with myself. As you already know I am Mrs.Kim. I have worked for BigHit for almost six years now. I started working as a secretary for a lot of the high profiled people in our company until I got switched over to the security department two years ago. My job for the last two years has been to plan for the arrival of the soulmates of our idols. Now I have been given the position as head of security for you (y/n). I truly look forward to working with you.” 

She shakes my hand and smiles again. Then she turned to look at all the men around your house.

“And some of these men are going to be your personal security guards. Not all of them though, we just brought a little extra to ensure that everything runs smoothly for your journey to Seoul. The next couple of weeks is really going to determine who is gonna stay with you permanently. We will see who you get the most comfortable with and them pic two out of that. We also made sure that all of the security personnel assigned to you are capable of speaking English fluently so that we don’t get any problems related to communication.” 

Wait... If they are all fluent in English, why the hell did they speak another language to you just a couple of minutes ago then? 

“We have Junseo, Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun. All of them have worked with the company for more than five years. Junseo is actually one of Jimins guards. He has worked with bts since the beginning. Jimin trust him more than any other guard working for us, so he specifically asked for him to join us on our travel to make sure that you were taken extra good care of.”

 They had all smiled when Mrs.Kim said their name and said cute little Hello’s and hi’s in return. Junseo’s ears and cheeks got all red when Mrs.Kim had talked so well about him. You could already tell that he was too pure for this world, how is this blushing mess a security guard? You just couldn’t wrap your head around that. You just wanted to give him a hug and tell him how adorable he is. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that though. He is a grown man after all. You did hope that you two could become friends in the future though. Maybe you could take him out for ice cream someday. He seems like a guy that would like stuff like that.

Mrs. Kim said a couple of words in what you assumed was Korean before all of them except Junseo went outside again. She sounded so French when she talked English, but looked and talked Korean. You were confused. Maybe you were just absolutely horrible at telling apart accents.You were all just standing there so you asked them both to take a seat on your couch to get a more comfortable atmosphere. They happily obliged, you took a seat in the beanbag tucked in the corner of the room. It was silent for what felt like five seconds before Mrs.Kim opened her mouth again. 

“I actually really need you to take a look at these documents with me (y/n). The CEOs of BigHit have required me to present this to you before our travel tomorrow. It is documents regarding your future in the company. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice of being a part of the company or not. Not only because of Jimin’s contract with BigHit but also his line of work. But they have tried to make it as fair as possible for you with this contact.” 

The previous big smile that decorated Mrs.Kim’s face had become smaller as she kept talking. You had already tried to prepare for worst-case scenarios, so keeping calm wasn’t as hard as you had first thought. It made sense to. Everybody knows that if you get matched with a famous person that you are basically bound to both them and their work for the rest of your life. You felt bad for the ones that had found at who they were only to have it all be ripped away to become a personal healing bag for their famous soulmate. 

You were also kind of happy though. Everyone in your life seems to know exactly who they are. What work they wanna do, their personality, what their style is, and what their dreams and goals are. You honestly didn’t know anything about yourself. You still haven’t found out who you are or what you want to do with your life. That was a good thing now though. Because if you don’t have anything to lose then people can’t take anything from you. 

But why did they ask for Mrs.Kim to show me the contract now? Why couldn’t we just do that after arriving in Korea? 

“He has requested you to show them to me now? Why can’t it wait until we have arrived in Seoul?” 

Mrs.Kim nodded before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands. 

“Well, even though they know that you wouldn’t run off to another entertainment company and ask for a job. They just need to make sure. Have it in black on white you know. It also is to make you more relaxed. In the contact that they wish for you to sign is a promise from them as a company. They want you to know that they are going to protect both you and your loved ones from the media and the fans. It is also a promise from them that they are going to give you work if you wish to and pay you even if you decide not to. For them, the most important thing is to know that regardless of where Jimin is or what he is doing, that you are going to be right beside him. They know that an idol can’t work without his or her soulmate after the bond as started. They need you to be around so that Jimin can keep working.”

“And in return, I give them what? All of what you just said sounds too good to be true.” You said. Your voice confused.

“In return” she continues. “In return, you give us your absolute loyalty. It really isn’t anything more than that. This isn’t a contact meant to screw you over (y/n). We know how bad it can all end if an idol doesn’t have their soulmate around twenty-four seven” 

Junseo had made his way to your kitchen, probably to give the two of you some privacy to discuss this. It had to be a little uncomfortable just sitting there and watching this conversation progress. You saw him looking at the pictures hanging on your refrigerator. You had filled the whole surface of the refrigerator with photos from back home, and your trips to different parts of the world. The voice of Mrs.Kim brought you back to the conversation.

“You see (y/n), it has been a few thousand cases in South Korea with Idols not having their soulmates around them enough. And everybody knows how wrong things can go with too little physical contact. Both idol and their soulmate would get very sick and in the worst cases die. The things that are different between other companies and ours is that we are willing to use a lot of money, time, and resources on our idol’s soulmate. Because we care and we know that it is what we must do to keep our idols healthy and happy. We have seen how much we can get back from it too. Let’s say that you are happy spending time with us in this company. That can result in you being willing to show up for events and interviews. It can make you want to work with us too, maybe within music or dance, or maybe things like doing modeling jobs. It can also mean that you may be willing to do social media stuff, it is a huge market in that now. But you are never going to want to have anything to do with us if we don’t treat you like family”

 She raised her shoulders a little, sitting more back on the couch. “However way you twist and turn around on this (y/n), you are good for the company. When this goes out into the public in just a few hours, things are going to blow up. Everyone is going to be talking about it. This is something that not only Jimin, his family, band members, and us in the company have been waiting for, but also the fans. It must be close to a gazillion hours of videos of Jimin on the Internet. A lot of those videos are him talking about you. His soulmate that he so desperately wants to find. The fans are going to be so excited for him when the news is out. So the PR is going to be amazing for the company.”

“That’s why BigHit doesn’t want much from you. The only thing that contract is requiring from you is that you don’t work for anyone else. That whatever work you want to do is going to be under BigHit, and that BigHit has the rights on whatever public works you do. It isn’t bad right?”

You nodded your head trying to digest the information. It didn’t sound bad at all. You had read so many horror stories about famous people’s soulmate being abused or taken advanced off by their soulmates company. It didn’t sound like the company that your soulmate works for did things that way. You should be happy and grateful for that you thought.

“Okay, I will sign it.” 

The next morning was the most chaotic morning you had ever experienced. 

Well not for you really. You had just been sitting at the floor with Mrs.Kim for the last hour drinking coffee and watching the moving people packing away all your stuff. But it was tiring to watch. And a little bit uncomfortable to not be helping. You had asked but all the men would just give you a smile and then bow before continuing on.You had taken that as a thank you, but no thank you. 

Everything was gone in under two hours. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, but they packed everything so neatly. It was almost painful to watch them fold every clothing item you owned perfectly before packing it away. You thought your closet was quite organized but not enough for them apparently. 

Mrs.Kim has told you that they were not Korean but Japanese. And also, that the same moving company had helped them every time the group that Jimin was a part of, had moved. They were supposedly the best of the best.

It was really quite in the streets, mostly because the clock only was eight in the morning. Most of the tourists are still asleep. So the moving crew had been able to pack everything up and leave without anyone noticing.Mrs. Kim told you that it would be best to pack up everything when there are fewer people around. The fewer the people the less attention.

The news of you and Jimin had dropped yesterday. And even though Mrs.Kim wouldn’t tell you anything, you could tell that it has become big news. She had talked on the phone for hours with someone you assumed was working for the company as well. She had talked in a low and stressful voice and even though you didn’t understand a word Korean, you knew that that conversation was something she didn’t want you to understand.

So she hasn’t told you anything though. You had tried to ask her about it but she would only answer that it was nothing for me to worry about and that it is being handled. 

You did worry though, but she didn’t give you much time to. Because as soon as the moving truck had left you were lead out to the cars as well. You would be leaving in two different cars. You, Mrs.Kim, and Junseo were leaving in one car while Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun would leave in another. 

You and Mrs.Kim have taken the back seats as Junseo would drive. The car was filled to the brim with tension. As both you and Mrs.Kim refuse to make any eye contact. You could tell she was nervous, and it made you uneasy as well. The only comfort you got was from Junseo through the rear-view mirror as he would give you small smiles and winks whenever you would catch his gaze. 

The last days had gone by so fast. You were just happy that you had gotten the time to give everyone that was important to you on that island a goodbye in person before you left. Even though you wished you had more time with everyone you knew that if you had asked for more you would have given Mrs.Kim a heart attack. And you weren’t that keen on having to explain to the company that you had killed one of their employees. You don’t think they would be so nice to you anymore if you had.

When you were getting close to the airport you noticed Mrs.Kim straighten up. She looked more alert as she eyed the people around the airport. Then after we stopped right outside the terminal one door she let out a breath and started to look more relaxed again. She turned to Junseo and told him something in Korean with a smile. 

What suddenly made them so happy?

The door on your side suddenly opened, making you flinch before turning around to face a smirking Yucheon. You blush a little as he started to giggle of your reaction. 

“You can come out now, me and Junseo will take you to the first-class lounge so you can eat something before our plane leaves” 

Oh, so he does talk English, just with an adorable accent. 

“I am really hungry too, so you don’t have to worry about eating alone” He gave you a reassuring smile. It reached his eyes and gave him cute eye wrinkles. 

You smiled back before making a mental note of Yucheon being a potential candidate for being your future lunch buddy when your soulmate decided to ditch you.

 “Ah. Thank you, I would hate to eat alone. That’s really depressing” 

He giggled a little more before making more space for you to crawl out of the car. Junseo jumped out of the car only a second after you. Then the three of you made your way into the busy airport. Mrs.Kim hadn’t followed you and neither had Hyun. You didn’t want to ask about it, it was okay for you to not know the reason behind everything. You knew it would only make you more anxious. And you didn’t want to loos your cool when you had made it this far.

The first-class lounge was mostly empty except the few people that worked in the buffet and an old couple sitting in the corner. Yucheon had informed you that the plane didn’t leave before twelve o’clock, so the three of you had almost two hours to eat our way through the buffet.

You had gotten to know both of them a little better at that time. Yucheon was twenty-eight years old and loved food, animals, tv-dramas, and long walks by a famous river that was in Seoul. Junseo was thirty years old and loved to read, travel, play video games, and go to the gym. You liked both of them a lot and found yourself wondering if it would be possible to steal Junseo from Jimin. 

You had asked them both if they would like to join you for ice cream and a walk along the river that Yucheon talked about, both of them said they would love to but that we would have to wait until the news of you and Jimin had died down. 

Yucheon had been shocked when you confessed to not really knowing anything about Jimin. He had been even more shocked when you told him that you haven’t even searched his name on google jet. He, of course, had thought that you were at least a little curious about him. And you are, but you are also really afraid to freak yourself out before you had even met the guy. 

Naturally Yucheon and Junseo we’re both eager to tell you everything they knew, even though you interested on that they don’t. 

“You know” started Junseo.

“He really has been putting a lot of effort to make everything perfect before you come. Not just after he got the letter, but for as long as I have worked for BigHit” 

He stopped eating and laid down his fork before he leaned more back into the couch. 

“He talked about you daily, even before knowing your name. He would always say stuff like ‘I can’t wait to show her this’ or is bet she would love to see this’. It was always about you. Everything he does he does for you. I remember having to wake him up one time. He had fallen asleep in the car on the way to rehearsal. He was crying in his sleep, and when I woke him up he said ‘why does TISO use so much time to find her?’ And ‘I have paid them so much to make it go faster because I need her now. Why can’t they just find her now? I need her now.”

He picked up his fork again and took a big bite of the pasta dish he was eating.

“You know, he really is a good guy. But he has a big heart that breaks easily. So be nice to him, please. He really is trying his best. So don’t be mad at him for not knowing enough English to express himself or communicating with you properly. Just tell him it’s okay, and that you will learn together. Because I can’t handle to see him heartbroken, especially after longing for you for such a long time” 

Junseo seemed to really love Jimin. He wouldn’t have told me this if he didn’t. 

You just nodded and told him you that he didn’t have to worry. Your first language wasn’t English ether so you know that learning a new language could be hard. You wouldn’t judge someone because of it. 

By that time Mrs.Kim had called them and informed us that we could board the plane soon. You had made your way through the terminal and before you even knew you were sitting in first class on a plane ready to leave for the other side of the world.

You had never flown for more than six hours, so you were starting to feel more and more thankful for the first class tickets the longer you were in the air.

You didn’t think you would have survived in the air for so long if you had to sit in the economy.

They had served food three times throughout the flight. All of the food served were multiple courses and were served with wine. When you were not eating you enjoyed the movie collection on board. Mrs.Kim had been on a Skype call with a man you didn’t know, for a couple of hours of the flight before falling asleep. The rest of the guys seemed to be sleeping for most of the flight too. Maybe it would have been smart of you to sleep too, but you were way to nervous about landing in Seoul to fall asleep.

The thought of the cameras that would be waiting to catch a glimpse of you at the airport was all you were capable of thinking about. You were thinking about how your life would be from now on, all the media and pressure didn’t match your ideal lifestyle. You were starting to question TISO’s discovery on you and Jimin as soulmates. Maybe they did a mistake or only matched you and Jimin together because they got paid a lot by him or his company and didn’t find his soulmate fast enough.

It didn’t seem right to you.

You've dreamed of having at least five or six more years alone before being matched with a guy living a quiet and boring life. You liked quiet and boring. It made you feel safe. Your mental health wasn’t stable enough to live the life Jimin was living. You prefer to not be the center of attention and would much rather be in the corner of the room than being the one that dances in the middle.

Your thoughts were stopped by the pilot's announcement over the speakers.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Seoul. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and make sure all your belongings are secured. Also, make sure your seat back is straight up and your seatbelt is fastened. The flight attendants will make one more round to pick up any unwanted items left. Thank you”

You looked over to Mrs.Kim. She was already looking at you. A lazy smile decorated her face. She looked so cute when she was sleepy, you wonder who was blessed with waking up to her every day.

“Are you ready (y/n)?”

You nodded. You kinda just had to be ready, because there was no way they pilots would just fly a couple of extra rounds just so you could have a little more time, now was it?

“There is no need to be nervous. I have already talked to some of our staff on the ground. They have everything under control.”

You already know that they would. The only problem is that they actually need to keep things under control. That only means it’s people waiting for you on the ground.

“(Y/n)”

You nodded and tried to give a small smile as reassurance. She didn’t need to know how much you were dying on the inside right now.

“I need you to remember to stay close to Junseo when we land. Your baggage is going to be delivered directly to the car. All you need to do is to keep your head low and your focus on Junseo. You are going to be wearing a mask and a hoodie so that the paparazzi can’t get a clear shot of you”

You almost jumped from your seat when the plain suddenly hit the ground, only the seatbelt prevented you from it.

You had missed your favorite part of any flight. To watch out the window on the city that you were gonna stay in. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time you were gonna land in Seoul, so you would just have to pay more attention next time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we in emirates welcomes you to Seoul. The local time is six in the morning and the temperature is currently eighteen degrees Celsius. For your safety and for those around you, please remain seated until the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign is turned off. Thank you”

The next minutes passed almost too quickly. All of you were all packed up and on your way out of the plane in what felt like only a minute.

Mrs.Kim had given you a big pink hoodie with ‘BTS’ written on the front and a black mask. Junseo was walking in front and had his arm stretched out for you. You quickly accepted and gripped his hand hard. You swear you had seen Junseo flinch from the power of your tight hold on him.

You had walked through security control and passport control completely alone. Big Hit had to have something to do with the luxury treatment you thought.

They hadn’t asked many questions after receiving your passport and confirmation from TISO on your soulmate. They had stamped your passport and told you something in Korean before giving you a smile followed by a bow.

And then you were on your way towards a door to what you assumed was the main terminal of the airport. But nobody from your travel group told you anything. Junseo only offered his hand to you again as Mrs.Kim dragged the hood of the hoodie over your head and made sure the mask was sitting right.

“Keep your head down and don’t freeze. We have to move fast (y/n).”

“I understand” was the only thing you could think of saying. You just had to trust these people that you had only known for three days to keep you safe.

No problem.

As you got closer to the metal door you started to hear the noise from the other side. As soon as Yucheon opened the door the people on the other side exploded in screams.

You had loosened your hold on Junseo hand and tried to take a step back. But he had only fastened his hold on you and given you a thigh squeeze. Mrs.Kim placed her hand on your back before shoving you out the door.

The flashlights were blinding. You tried your hardest to keep your focus on Junseo’s moving feet and on Mrs.Kim’s hand that had made its way around your waist.

You lifted your gaze slightly. But not enough to look over Junseo’s big shoulders. You did, however, get a glimpse of the barricade that was blocking you from them. It hanged a lot of signs on it. Papers in all of the rainbow's colors with colorful writing on them.

“Welcome to Korea (y/n),” one said.

“Army supports you,” another one said.

Why the hell would the Korean army support me?

“Please tell Jimin to eat at” the rest was written in Korean. You assumed it was a restaurant or cafe.

You almost tripped when Junseo slowed down. A big revolving door was the reason for his now slower pace. But as soon as you had made your way through, you were quickly shown into a black van.

You felt as though you were finally able to breathe properly again.

Outside the airport young girls and boys were gathered. You could hear them even though the car doors were closed.

They were singing.

There was already a person ready in the driver's seat. Mrs. Kim had taken the front seat and Junseo had walked around the car to sit at your left side in the back.

You had no idea where Seurong, Yucheon, or Hyun was. But you could imagine them being in some of the surrounding vehicles.

The driver that you didn't know the name of, told Mrs. Kim something with a smile before starting to drive. The singing from the people outside the airport soon disappeared. You were left with only the motor of the car as noise. You pay close attention to everything passing by. This was the city you were most likely going to live in for all of the remaining years of your life. So you tried your best to remember buildings that looked exiting or places that you would like to later explore.

It was exciting, you couldn't lie. Seoul was truly a stunning city. It was extraordinary to see such a beautiful contrast between the old and the new buildings. You could almost feel the culture in the air as you got deeper and deeper into the city.

An extremely tall building caught your eye.

”What is that?” you asked. Everybody else that was in the car flinched. You had tried not to make your voice loud, but the car was just too quiet. Any noise that would occur would certainly scare anyone.

”what? Where?” Junseo was leaning over you to watch out your side of the car. His eyes frantically searching for whatever had caught your attention.

”that!” you tried to point your index finger as precisely a possible. Letting your finger push hard against the glass window and closing your left eye. Junseo tried to follow your finger to what it was pointing towards.

”ahh, that is lotte tower, I can take you there sometime. They have a nice bar in one of the top floors with an amazing view of Seoul” He had started at the building as he was talking to you. Your finger only left the window after he was done explaining about the tower.

The drive through the city went slow. The traffic wasn't bad, but it felt like they had a stoplight at every corner in the whole city center. But it could also be because of the awkward tension between everyone in the car. They all know that when you arrive, they are going to be the witnesses to you and Jimins first meeting.

No pressure right?

You were really nervous though. And it was uncomfortable to think about people watching your first meeting with Jimin. You found yourself wondering if that's how it's always gonna be with Jimin. He was famous after all. You had just hoped that you would have this moment for yourself.

You were starting to see that you were arriving on the rich side of town. Every building, flower, bench, and even the crosswalk looked expensive. You didn't belong here.

You suddenly stopped at a security gate. A huge fence blocking the car from continuing on driving. One of the two men guarding the gate came up to the driver's window. The other man was walking around the car and looking at me and Junseo. Mrs. Kim has just leaned over the driver to hand some papers to the security guard, not really seeming nervous about the men. They had talked only a couple of sentences each before Mrs.Kim turned around to look at me.

”This is as far as we are allowed to take you today, (y/n). These kind men will walk you up this hill to Jimins apartment. You can just walk straight in, the door is unlocked.”

You weren't ready. But then again you probably never would.

”okay, thanks guys. For the drive and all that.” you said looking down at your hands that we're lying comfortably on your lap.

”hey.” Junseo took your left hand and squeezed tightly. Then he gave you a piece of paper with his name and number on it.

”you know we are all just a phone call away if you need us. But I doubt you will. I know Jimin is gonna keep you busy. He has basically planned for this for his whole life. You are going to be eating good food, see beautiful places, have lots of fun, and meet everyone important to him. I promise you are gonna have the best time of your life, I am honestly a little afraid you might forget me after a few weeks with him.

You laughed. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was from nerves, happiness, or sadness. It almost felt like a mix of them all.

”thank you. I really appreciate you Junseo. Don't be mad though, when I start calling you about ice cream and that walk we talked about. I can be a bit annoying if things don't happen fast enough for me.”

You could see Mrs. Kim smile in the corner of your eyes.

«I like annoying.” was all Junseo said before you stepped out of the car. Only carrying your hand luggage, you had no idea when the rest would arrive.

The tall building he lived in was intimidating. It seems to reach beyond the clouds. Not the best place for one with a fear of heights, especially when he lives on the top two floors. You though the guard that followed you to the building was joking with you when he gave you a keycard to the elevator and told you to press floor number fifty-two.

The guard had let out a laugh at your reaction but did little to help you other than giving you a kind smile and a point with his index finger to the elevator.

He obviously didn't speak a word English, but you still found him cute with all his hand gestures and his broken English.

”Okay, okay, I am going don't worry. You can go down to your friend again. I just need a minute to try to calm myself before going into that death trap.”

He only let out another laugh but didn't move an inch.

Great.

You give the poor guy a smile before turning around and going into the elevator, pressing the fifty-second floor, and scanning your new keycard. You turned with your back to the door and faced the mirror that was covered the whole wall. Your make-up is completely ruined by your long journey and you find yourself regretting not using the time from the airport to jimins house to try to look at least a little more presentable.

You had decided to wear a navy blue jumpsuit. It was pretty and you slightly prayed that it would be enough to distract him from your face.

”hello.”

You haven't even noticed the elevator door opening, but as you lifted your gaze you saw his eyes on you through the mirror. He was standing in the hallway without shoes on.

He looked like an angel. Wearing all white and many accessories. The clothes he was wearing was baggy but made with a thin fabric, so thin that you could see the outline of the tattoo on his ribcage. His rings we're all gold-colored with different colored gemstones. His outfit was planned but relaxed.

Dark but gentle eyes started intensely on you. They held the stars. He had tears threatening to fall in the corners on both eyes, but you only saw it becomes the light hit his face perfectly, making his eyes shine.

He was biting the corner of his lip, as he was slightly swaying back and forth, shifting between one foot and the other.

Then you realized.

He was just as nervous as you.

”hi.”

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [3]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!Au (mostly platonic idk)

-> Words: 1.6k

-> Warnings: Cursing, A Literal Karen, Mentions of Abuse (not too in depth, but still there), Manipulation, a Slightly Suggestive Conversation

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack, Some Angst

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: so I made two FE3H oc��s and also have gotten back into drawing so I was wondering ... how would y’all feel if I wrote and also posted some of my drawings and stuff here? it would give y’all more content and I’d probably be inclined to post more often lol anyways enjoy

“This is fucking stupid-”

“Stupid? Felix, you lied to me.”

You were livid. First this fuck-ass cat shows up in your life, worms his way into your heart even though you swore you wouldn’t get a hybrid, and then brings all kinds of trouble with him. If you weren’t already so attached to him, you’d just let the people- Doug and Karen- take him. But you couldn’t. You cared too much.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! You told me that they didn’t want you, not that you ran away. Do you know how this can affect me keeping you? They can take me to court or something and get you back.”

“But you signed the papers, I’m yours.”

Your heart fluttered, but you ignored it. “You’re mine, but you also belong to these people. I can’t just take you from them, but I can’t let you go back to them if they were that bad to you- were they even bad? Or did you just not like them? Did you lie to me about that too?”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t like them because they were bad. Look at ‘em. They don’t love anything except for the gold around their necks, especially not me. I was literally put in cat shows to earn money. If I ever got below first place, they’d…”

He shuddered and sat down on the edge of your bed. You leaned against the door, arms crossed. From the other room you heard talking. Ashe probably saw your front door open and came to investigate.

Felix couldn’t look you in the eyes. You looked so hurt. Not even angry- just hurt. “Please don’t make me go back.”

You sighed and dropped your arms. “I don’t want you to go back, Fe. But I- I don’t know what else to do. They’ve obviously got more money and if they take me to court they’ll win for being ‘better equipped’ to care for you.”

“But they’re not.” His voice was growing desperate. “You are. What if- what if we can prove the center that you’re better than them? Courts don’t deal with Hybrid ownership, the facilities do. Nancy does.”

At that moment, the door creaked open. Two red ears appeared first, then a mop of red hair.

Sylvain grinned and walked in, closing the door and throwing a wink Felix’s way. The cat bristled.

“Give me your phone.”

“I’m not cheating, I swear.”

“We’re not- fuck you, give me your phone, Sylvain.”

The dog practically whimpered and handed over the phone. Felix had a Cheshire grin as he unlocked it. Typical Sylvain to not have a password despite all the dumb shit on the phone. You tapped your foot impatiently, anxious for Ashe who kept the two other people occupied.

“So, what are you planning?”

“I’ll go back with them, but I’ll keep this phone. I’ll- I’ll take those audio messages and send videos and shit when I can. I’ll just have to be careful.” This was the most Felix had ever talked to anyone. His voice was shaky, despite trying to desperately hide it.

“Absolutely not. Felix, you're not going with them! Who knows what they’ll do-“

“I think me dealing with their shit for a few weeks will be worth it if I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your eyes widened and so did Felix’s. He flushed a bright red after realizing what he said. Sylvain cracked up.

“I- I mean, as an owner. You don’t do those things, that’s all. I just-“

“Nah, nah, it’s alright, you little smitten kitten~” Sylvain still smiled. “We catch your drift.”

Felix huffed. “There’s no drift to catch! Fucking drop it! Drop the drift!”

He stood up and yanked the door open, scaring the shit out of Ashe. You followed him quickly, grabbing onto his sleeve as Sylvain went back to Ashe’s side.

“You don’t have to do this, we can find another way.” You whispered. Felix could clearly see your absolute distress at letting him leave.

He held your gaze and let out a sigh. “I’ll be okay. You and Ashe just keep a lookout for my messages.”

With that, Felix tugged his arm out of your grasp and walked to Doug and Karen. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at the ground, his head lowered.

Submission.

That wasn’t the Felix you had come to know. Felix was loud and didn’t take shit from anyone. To see him suddenly reduced to something resembling a kicked puppy- the irony- was borderline heartbreaking.

You couldn’t help but tear up as the door closed. Sylvain whimpered. Ashe, who was silent and confused the whole time, whipped around to you.

“What the fuck is going on?” He seethed. “You didn’t even put up a fight-“

“Take a chill pill, Ashie.” Sylvain went behind Ashe and began to massage his shoulders. Ashe slapped his hands away. “We’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? Y/N, listen, you’re not Claude. You’re not Yuri. Your little plans never work the way they should.”

“Just give this one a chance!” You practically pleaded. “Felix has Sylvain’s phone. He’s gonna send updates and videos on what they’re doing. Hopefully they’ll be enough to convince the facility that Felix is better off with me.”

“Or not! If you don’t remember correctly, the lady fucking hated Felix. She’d probably do whatever she can to make sure he suffers.”

“Maybe the fact that we’re fighting to get him back will prove that we care more than the others-“

“-who literally came to your door and wanted him back. I’ve got no doubt they’ll fight too.” Ashe sighed. “This will only work if they really do something.”

At that moment, your phone pinged. The notification was from Sylvain’s phone. A video from Felix.

You opened the message and pressed okay, shushing Ashe and turning up the volume. Felix was in the backseat of the car while Doug and Karen sat up front. The angle was shitty and the phone was extremely shaky. Felix was trying to hide the phone from them.

“Felix Hugo, what the fuck were you thinking? Leaving like that? After all we’ve done for you?” Karen’s voice was shrill and loud, not even hiding her anger.

“After all you’ve done for me? You’ve done nothing-“

“Shut up! You’re ungrateful. We’ve fed you and housed you. You’re lucky someone even does that for a dumb cat like you. You’re practically feral- unlovable!”

The camera shook a little harder at that word.

Unlovable.

Your heart clenched, but there were still a few more seconds to the video.

“I can’t believe you thought a girl like that would even care about you. See how easily she let you go? She didn’t really want you. See, Felix Hugo? See how worked up you’ve gotten me?”

Doug’s voice cut in, silencing Karen’s annoying distress. “Just wait until we get home. We’ll deal with him there.”

You were probably shaking even more than Felix at this point. ‘Wait until we get home’... you didn’t even want to think of the implications of that.

The video was pure manipulation. But… to some, it may not be enough to make them question Felix’s safety.

Unfortunately.

You texted back, “Just a little more. In about two days, we’ll contact the facility and try to get them to hear us. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re trying your best. Just… try faster.”

“Miss you already.”

Seen.

Hanging your head, you looked up at the two boys. You shrugged and turned off your phone. A few more days, you said. Could you even handle that? You were already so used to his presence. To have an empty household again was something you didn’t want.

Even if it was full of Felix yelling… it was kind of endearing. He was always angry when Ashe and Sylvain were around. It makes sense why other people would be put off by his personality. But he was just…

Defensive.

Felix had walls up that were practically impenetrable. Could that excuse the rude, borderline abusive words he said to others? No. He could only apologize and do better from that. But he wouldn’t get better if he was with Doug and Karen.

You put your head in your hands and began tearing up. “I just want him safe. With me.”

Ashe and Sylvain exchanged glances.

“Yeah, you want him with you. To be with you. To… share your bed, in a literal sense, right?” Sylvain’s eyes held a sly glint in them. You raised an eyebrow.

“What are you on about now?”

“You and Felix. You want him to be with you. You want to be with him…”

“What?”

“Do you have feelings for him? You wanna fuck that cat?”

“Wh- I don’t want to fuck a cat! He’s… he’s more human than cat. Hybrids are just people that can turn into animals…”

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Hybrids are people that can turn into animals, have ears and a tail, go into heats, all that shit. You don’t want to deal with an angry feline in a heat-“

“Is that why you’re neutered?”

“I’M NOT NEUTERED. FUCK YOU.”

You just sighed and checked your phone again. No check from Felix, even though it hasn't even been five minutes since the last message. You were just scared.

Ashe got up and began to cook dinner for you, deciding that you weren’t fit to do it tonight. You protested, but ultimately complied as Sylvain laid his head in your lap in hopes of an ear scratch.

That night, you tossed and turned. It was weird without a little cat body at the foot of your bed. You couldn’t help but think of worst case scenarios, spanning from just not being able to get Felix back to rather… unsavory ideas of what could be happening to him now. You finally settled down and forced your eyes shut, hoping that your dreams would be better than your thoughts.

They weren’t.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Also simple question, I am seeing it is kind of split with how Weiss handled Whitley when her team was seeking shelter. I see some say Weiss was in the right and Whitley was just being a jerk, others say Weiss went too far and disregared her promise to Willow. Me I am unsure of Weiss but I do know Whitley was justified in his objections. What do you thing?

Hiya Crystal. For me, it's a case where I feel both sides were more or less justified in a sense. 

While I understand that RWBN needed a temporary shelter to crash for the night while Nora was in recovery, I do believe Whit was vindicated in his unwillingness to aid the group given the all-important fact that they are criminals wanted by General Ironwood and the Atlesian Military. 

By hiding at Schnee Manor, Weiss is unintentionally making the rest of her family look like accomplices for harbouring them which could result in Willow and Whit either being locked away in jail along with Jacques or worse. 

As we saw from the first episode, Ironwood is not in the right frame of mind right now. If he was willing to outright kill the remaining members of the Atlas Council who stand to oppose his actions to defend the kingdom and/or forcibly impose the aid of Arthur Watts despite his crimes against his kingdom as a means of getting Penny to return to him against her will, then what's stopping Ironwood from deeming the whole Schnee Family (minus Winter, of course) as traitors to Atlas and ordering their execution on the spot. 

I know this may sound like an extreme worst case scenario but at this point, after seeing Ironwood’s actions for the past couple of episodes, I honestly wouldn’t put it past him.

Like I said, Weiss may be putting her brother and mother in danger and it is disappointing that she hasn’t considered this potential repercussion. Or perhaps she has...which could rationalize why Weiss firmly told Whit to go to his room last episode while she and the other girls aided Nora.

Let me explain what I mean by this. I do disagree with the notion that Weiss ignored her mother's wishes to look out for Whitley. 

While I was annoyed at the crude tone Weiss took to poor Whit upon returning home at first, after more thought, I came to the realization that perhaps Weiss wasn’t acting stern with Whit because she was trying to be rude or disrespectful to her little brother. 

On the contrary, Weiss in that moment sounded very much like a parent to Whit. 

She wasn't being the older sister who has ignored her brother in the past. I saw that moment as Weiss attempting to be like a firm yet caring parent to Whitley.

"Go to your room!" Weiss sounded like such a mom in that instance that I honestly thought it was kind of adorable. And it makes sense. 

Last season, Willow explained to Weiss that Whitley is only the way he is due to being raised poorly by both her and Jacques who admittedly weren't the best parental figures and role models in the young man’s life. Unlike Weiss, who at least had Winter looking out for her, Whitley never had that kind of proper guidance from anyone.

So I took that moment from the last episode as Weiss trying to do just that. Be a guiding voice for Whit. Sure she was firm with him but I more saw it from a place of compassion rather than ignorance, y’know what I mean? It’s not the same tone as Weiss took with her brother before. I dunno. Maybe I’m the cheese that stands alone with this stance. All I can say is that from my perspective, I took the V8CH4 moment between Weiss and Whitley as Weiss trying to be maternal towards Whit.

And what's interesting to note is just how quickly Whitley listened to Weiss. While he appeared annoyed, he didn't object to going to his room either. This, in addition to him folding at allowing RWBN to stay until Nora recovered, proves Whit isn’t as rotten to the core as some folks might peg him to be. 

He's not as heartless as others might expect him to be due to his upbringing. 

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again---Whitley Schnee is NOT a bad person. He’s just misguided which is why a relationship between him and Weiss would be important to his development. All Whit needs is proper guidance from someone who can show him to become the best person he can be and this is why Willow told Weiss to be there for him.

I found it interesting that Willow told this to Weiss as a opposed to Winter, despite both of them being at the Schnee Manor that night of the dinner. Call it coincidence or just a matter of the narrative but, it wouldn’t surprise me if Willow reached out to Winter to be there for both of her younger siblings in the past. 

Or perhaps…Willow attempted to get Winter to care for her little brother as well but given the strained relationship between Winter and Whit (since Weiss outright said that Whitley doesn’t like Winter back in V4), Winter probably saw Whit as a lost cause and instead channelled all of her support into moulding Weiss which worked out.

Weiss was able to change to become a better person due to the support of those who cared for her like her older sister and the friends she made at Beacon who eventually became like family to her too. 

Now what’s needed is for the same type of development to happen for Whitley hopefully. 

Ultimately, I think Weiss will be the only family member that Whitley will have to turn to in the end so now would be a better time to help guide him as he is still pretty young.

I also have a hunch that Willow Schnee will probably die soon. Given what was said by Whit about her last episode, her current condition is giving me "dead mom" red flags. 

My concern is that Weiss might just go to visit her mom in her room only to find her dead from an overdose of alcohol mixed with pills as a form of suicide. I'm not trying to imply that I think Willow may be suicidal at this point in the narrative, since I doubt the showrunners will go that dark but...I dunno. It's a weird vibe I'm getting that makes me think Willow won't be around for much longer, thus taking away yet another family member for Whit to turn to. 

His dad is in jail, probably for life. Mom isn't look too stable health-wise and may either die or be forced to go away for some time in order to get herself the proper help she needs. Eldest sister doesn't want to have anything to do with Whit or the Schnee Family name or affairs for that matter.

The only person Whit has a chance with is Weiss. It wouldn’t surprise me if Weiss becomes Whitley’s primary caretaker and/or custodian following the Atlas Arc. 

I’m not sure how old Whit is. Some folks peg him to be around Oscar’s age but I was more of the impression that Whit is between Ruby and Oscar in respect to ages. If Oscar is 14 going on 15 and Ruby just turned 17 as of V7, then my assumption is that Whit is probably 16-years old. Young but at the ripe age that he could be made heir to the Schnee Dust Company and take over from his father in terms of authority should anything happen to Jacques (as we’re already seeing done in the PLOT).

I’m not sure how parental custody works in the realm of Remnant but Weiss is old enough to become the legal guardian to her brother since she is 19. 

Bottom-line what I’m mainly trying to say is that Weiss may just end up being all Whitley has in the end to turn to in terms of family---unless Klein returns to Schnee Manor out of concern and care of the young master after hearing what became of the Schnees. 

I’d love to think that Klein loved the Schnee siblings as if they were his own children. So wouldn’t it be touching if, despite being wrongfully fired by Jacques, Klein returned to Schnee Manor to willingly offer his services to young Whitley because he genuinely loved and cared for him? 

Wouldn’t that be a sweet way to bring Klein back into the picture especially as someone to watch over Whit in place of Weiss as she goes off to fight the forces of evil?

Also, now that I think about it again---Weiss sending Whit off to his room was actually a wise move because as we know, Schnee Manor is a large estate. In the event that the authorities show up at their doorstep and accuse the Schnees of harbouring criminals, Whit can always make the excuse that he and his mom were locked inside their respective rooms at the time and weren't aware of RWBN being on the premises, especially since there were no staff around to alert them of their intrusion. 

So yeah; that’s how this squiggle meister sees it, Crystal. 

Weiss wasn't disregarding her promise to her mother. I think she's actually trying in her own Weiss-way to live up to it and actually look out for Whit. 

Whether or not, Whitley will continue to keep listening to Weiss or fight her on the matter, is up to him as we'll see from the show in tomorrow’s new episode. But for now, those are my thoughts on that fam. Hope this answers your question.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[notaparty-trick]

All Those Senseless Scars - Chapter 2

By @notaparty-trick​ for @asyouleft​

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange​

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Parker & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds

Summary: There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices. 

--- 

Peter Parker's life is derailed when he's kidnapped and kept in a white-tiled room with nothing: no windows, no cameras, no food, no water, no phone, nobody else. Only his own thoughts keep him from losing his mind. If he asks for anything, he must take punishment. Tony Stark will stop at nothing to bring him home.

Archive Of Our Own link here

  The second Tony hits the floor, he wakes up.

Before even the throbbing of the back of his head, he notices the kid’s arms around him and recalls the last few minutes of his consciousness, the images of a blowtorch burning blue and of waxy crimson burns spidering across Peter’s face still horrifyingly fresh in his memory.

“Get a medical team to the front door right away,” he hears Pepper saying. Pushing himself hurriedly into a sitting position, Tony sees her crouched in front of them both, her widened eyes fixed on the kid.

The kid, whose every inch of skin is littered with bruises, lacerations, swelling, raised lines that look like whip marks. Who is gaunt and frail and half-naked and blue from cold.

“What should you expect, you asked? Cho, I don’t know what to say. He’s… everything. Just, every kind of injury you could think of.”

Tony has spent twenty sleepless nights looking for Peter Parker.

He’d first begun to suspect that something was amiss when he shut up his workshop for the night and realised he’d never received the quiet ping he’d programmed Karen to send which indicated that the kid had returned safely home from patrol. The protocol had been designed so Tony would get a ping from the Spider-Man suit the moment it entered the Parker abode, and, on the flip side, would send through an alert if he stayed out past his curfew, so the radio silence was what began to raise red flags.

Tony had shoved his paranoia aside for the moment and simply called the kid.

Nothing.

After three missed calls, he patched it straight through, the guilt of prying fading in comparison to a need to assure the kid’s safety, but FRIDAY had pulled him up short. “Boss, it is impossible for me to trace his phone or suit. They do not exist.”

“Sure, they exist. Be realistic, FRI. What do you mean?”

“The most likely explanation for this is that they have both been destroyed to the point where they no longer emit a tracking signal.”

Pushing out a deliberately measured breath, Tony ran his hands down his face in a habitual movement. “What are the chances he’s... destroyed all his tech and run off to join the Amish?”

“That is highly unlikely, Boss. Mister Parker spends an average of three hours on his phone every day.”

“Well - yeah. Shit.” Fighting back a growing wave of unease, Tony tried and failed to pull together some sort of plan of action which culminated in a tentative phone call to May Parker.

“If Peter’s with you right now and he hasn’t answered my texts,” she began without preamble, “You’re both in big trouble.”

Tony’s moment of silence drove her to an instant and terrifying conclusion.

“Tony, tell me he’s with you.”

“He’s off the grid. FRIDAY’s saying his suit and phone have been destroyed.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means… I suppose we’re - we’re looking at a missing kid now.”

Tony remembers with harsh clarity the way May’s breath had caught.

“Fuck, Tony. He’s - that’s my baby.”

“I know, May, I know. Best not to get - we don’t know anything for sure. There’s a best-case scenario here.” Neither of them are convinced. They’re both catastrophizers when it comes to Peter, and for good reason: the kid gets whammied by the ugliest parts of life on the daily.

“And the worst case?” May ventured.

Words fled Tony’s mouth.

“There’s a place at the facility upstate if that’s where you wanna be. I’ll kickstart a search there.”

The plastered-on bravery in May’s tone fractured a little as she affirmed, “I’ll be right there.”

Tony called the NYPD. He gathered Rhodey and Happy and Pepper and a team of specialist SI security employees. He scoured footage and followed leads himself, gave every piece of information he had to the cops, sent out teams of drones to survey as much of New York as he could until, five days later, Pepper laid her hands on his shoulders and told him, “If you don’t rest now you’re going to be useless.”

“He’s still out there, Pep.”

She simply smiled sadly at him and repeated, “If you don’t rest now you’re going to be useless.”

“I can’t just rest.”

“Yes, you can. Come on.” She let him take her arm and guided him out of his chair as if he were fragile, ancient. “You’re going to take a hot bath. I’m going to warm up your favourite pyjamas. You’re going to take some sleeping pills, and I’ll be with you all night.”

“The kid needs me--”

“He does. He needs you to be strong, and to do that you have to sleep.”

“Make sure I’m up at five.”

“Six.”

“Five-thirty.”

As awful as it felt harbouring a head full of horrific images of what could be happening to the kid while he let his muscles unknot themselves in a tub of hot water, he awoke the next morning with renewed determination for his task.

Losing Peter was simply not an option.

“Whoever’s got him, they must know a lot,” May remarked over coffee as she watched Tony at work that morning. “To disconnect his suit, too.”

She left for a shift at the hospital a few hours later - as much as she wanted to be around during the search for Peter, her job didn’t allow her to take leave for her missing nephew, and she was determined to remain self-sufficient - but her statement stayed with Tony.

They must know a lot.

When Tony stopped searching for a lone villain and started picturing a group - an organisation of some sort - the pieces began to fit.

“Show me feed 4, the 2nd of February, at... 2 pm. One of the first drone searches I sent out, right?”

“That is correct,” FRIDAY chimed. “The feed begins just over a mile from this facility.”

And there it is. The small, ramshackle building by the freeway. He’d dismissed it at first as a broken-down shelter, but it’s too incongruous not to take a closer look now.

“Send in a scout. I want to see inside.”

Not a minute later, the miniature drone whirred through a chink in its wall and revealed a room that appeared completely unremarkable but for the circular trapdoor set into the centre of the floor. 

After ten minutes of studying that trapdoor, realisation - a thunderbolt from heaven, the eureka moment inventors like him grasp at all their lives - strikes him. He notices the design: a circle broken by a diagonal hinge on the bottom right.

“Bring up the Oscorp logo,” he demanded urgently.

An image flew to join the paused feed of the trapdoor. A circle broken at the bottom right.

Oscorp.

Lunging for his phone, he patched a call through to Norman Osborn - how he came to store the fucker’s number, God only knows, but he was thankful for it then - and hoped his hunch was correct.

“You took the kid.”

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” Osborn had returned with a short bark of laughter.

As he takes in the state of Peter all over again in the doorway of the Compound, he wishes he’d killed Osborn personally. Painfully. Made him feel every inch of pain the kid must have gone through.

The kid. The kid he’d taken out for ice cream on his sixteenth birthday last summer. The kid whose screams are still freshly ringing through Tony’s mind.

He hovers his hands over the motionless body beside him, searching for somewhere to make contact with that won’t hurt the kid. 

“Fucking hell, he just - we’re - he walked all the way back.”

Pepper ends her call and immediately looks to him, gaping, her composure discarded. “What the hell happened?”

“I found the place,” he blurts. “Tried to get him out, but I must’ve knocked my head. He… took us back.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“You should get May on the line,” Tony says, trying to clear a path through his jostled brain. It throbs, but his heart aches more acutely.

Pepper just nods, rushing to find the number.

Swallowing away the breaks in his voice, he tugs off his jacket, shakes away the coating of dust from the explosion, and lays it across the kid’s back. He seems even smaller under it, like he’s shrinking by the minute to a shell of what Tony remembers him to be. Unwilling to gather him up and risk aggravating any of his injuries, Tony takes hold of one of his hands: there’s a litany of half-healed scrapes marring the knuckles, but all the fingers look to be in their proper place, which he can’t say the same of about the other. God. “Kiddo, are you awake? Can you try and open your eyes? I just - we’ve just gotta know you’re all good.”

“May, he’s here,” Pepper says. “We have - no, I’m sorry. He’s not awake. Just - come.”

Tony brings the limp knuckles to his cheek, then his chest. “Look, it’s okay to wake up now. Here’s my janky heartbeat. You always recognize it, remember?” He laughs hysterically, tearfully. Tony Stark is on the verge of tears. “We’ve got a team coming - they’re gonna get you on the good stuff, yeah? Stuff kids your age pay hundreds for. Lucky punk.”

Inexplicably, the kid’s eyelids choose that moment to begin dragging themselves open.

“Oh. Kid? Pete?”

Peter’s face screws up the moment he wakes; he groans, a dreadfully tormented noise.

In his peripheral vision, Tony spots the elevator doors opening to allow out an assemblage of medics.

“You’re okay, kid - it’s me, it’s your Mister Stark, yeah? We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”

“M’s… s’k,” Peter garbles.

“Uh-huh,” Tony assents, although he hasn’t a clue what the kid is trying to tell him.

His gaze is brimming with exhaustion, anguish, pain, a host of harrowing emotions that Tony doesn’t ever want to see there again, but through it all shines trust.

As the medics set down their equipment, he squeezes Peter’s hand and receives a slight twitching of the kid's fingers in response. Encouraged, he prepares to make full use of his skills in comforting monologues. “You’re gonna get lifted onto a gurney in just a second so we can get you tucked up in a bed and fixed up. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

Peter whines, long and low and broken. After Tony had watched him rein in his response to pain in the white tiled corridor - the fierce, guarded demeanour he’d taken upon him - he reckons the kid deserves to cry out as much as he wants. He must hurt like hell.

Tony can feel it.

He keeps his hand locked around Peter’s as the medical team lifts him onto the gurney on his stomach, the kid locking his gaze on him as if his life depends on it. As he’s carried back towards the elevator, Tony jogs beside him. “And we’re off on a magical adventure to the MedBay,” he jests feebly. One side of Peter’s mouth actually lifts a little. “Get ready to sleep for a decade. I know you’ll love that. No more getting up at the crack of dawn to take the subway, doctor’s orders.”

The elevator takes them briskly upwards, but to Tony it still isn’t fast enough. Through his tirade of falsely-chipper reassurance, the medical team makes a cursory assessment of his injuries and responsivity.

“Your aunt is on her way. She’ll be here real soon, so expect a lot of kisses. From me, too. If that’s alright.”

“Sir, we need you to clear the room while we prep for surgery.”

“Oh.” They’re in an operating room, he realises dimly. “Yes.”

Although it tears at his primal protective instincts, Tony knows he has to step away for the kid’s ultimate wellbeing. Hysterics in the OR will do nothing to ease the process along.

Laying a hand over the crown of Peter’s matted hair, he tries to imbue his own strength into the kid through his touch, though all he’s got at the moment seems to be an overload of frenzied determination.

“Be brave for me, Pete,” he whispers.

There’s an affirmation of his request in Peter’s eyes, he thinks.

He steps away; the doors glide shut before him.

“Well, fucking hell,” he remarks to Pepper who he hears approaching behind him.

“Yes, fucking hell. Do you want to explain why you were passed out and slung over the kid’s shoulder?”

“I found where they’d kept him. Well, I didn’t know for sure, I just… I’m sorry. It was a gut instinct. Couldn’t slow down if there was a chance it was the right lead.”

“Who was it?”

“Oscorp. They brought him to me, and - God - they, he was…” his headache arrives in full force, half-knocking him off his feet with the sudden dizziness that accompanies it. “Maybe we can talk about this after I’ve got some Tylenol in me. Pretty sure I’ve got a concussion.”

“Okay.” Caring Pepper returns. “Let’s get you checked out, too.”

---

Peter opens his eyes to white tiles.

The pain he’d felt so potently the last time he’d been awake has dimmed significantly, leaving him with dull aches; a mattress cushions his smarting back. It’s heavenly, almost unreal.

“They said he’d only be out for an hour or two, right?”

“It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong, May. He’s just exhausted.”

It’s the familiar voices that bring him back to reality, that cement sweet relief in his heart.

Rolling his head to one side, he finds May attached to his hand.

May. May. May who smells of freshly-washed scrubs and orchids and home. 

He flexes his fingers in hers and she startles, pressing her lips together in a trembling smile. “Peter, baby. Peter.”

At the affection in her words, a bright golden thing deep in his chest that has been left neglected in a white tiled corner for twenty-one days flares to life, thawing, easing him.

He attempts to turn his head the other way but finds a wad of gauze across the side of his head that prevents him from seeing all of Tony. He spots the elbows resting on his mattress, the downturned countenance harbouring something deep and raw.

Grief settles heavily in the room. Peter’s had enough of grief.

“Tha’ was,” he tries through his numb mouth, “Tha’ w’s a trip. An’ all I got w’s… was this…” He attempts to indicate himself with a hand but finds the arm that isn’t enclosed in May’s hand trapped by a sling and a number of casts.

Like the force of gravity has suddenly been applied to him and he’s hit the ground with a thud, Peter remembers the snap of those bones breaking, the wordless screams nobody had heeded, the bloodstains that had tarnished undulating white tiling, and feels a painful lump well up in his throat. 

“I d’n’t even ge’ an’thing.” 

A tear races unbidden down his cheek. 

“That w’s a lousy joke. ’m sorry.”

The lamentation trapped within him has been caught behind his sternum for twenty-one days; now that it’s beginning to escape, it’s impossible to stop.

Peter swallows. Another tear falls, sinking into the gauze across his face.

“Hey,” May murmurs soothingly to him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

Everything.

“Forgot how nice y’ were, May,” he tells her, trying to distract from his crying, trying to smile. The gauze and the numbness of the side of his face gets in the way. “Ev’ryone’s real nice ou’ here. Y’ were - m'ster St’rk, y’ came?”

“I did,” he receives in reply. He’s never seen his mentor look so wrecked.

It’s not every day he returns from a kidnapping, he supposes.

“‘M - ‘m back.” He feels as if he needs to say it aloud to solidify it.

“Yes, you are.” May brushes a fond hand across his hair, tucking away his still-dirty bangs. The touch is more tentative than her usual calming gestures, but she offers him a smile that, although plastered on, holds at least a fragment of genuine positivity. “Everyone’s very happy about that, you know.”

His mind turning to the days at school he never attended, the unanswered texts in his phone, the life he’d left behind, Peter tips his head back restlessly. “Di’ Ned… we were g’na…”

“He handled your World History presentation,” May says with a huff of laughter that is mirrored by Mister Stark. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“Goo’. Prou’ of him.” He is. He misses him and MJ like hell.

May’s countenance affects stern incredulity, although she can never muster up any real discipline while he’s bedbound. Peter has learnt this through a long period of trial and error where, after engaging in some form of stupid behaviour, she’d always wait until he was back on his feet to grill him out. With the state he’s in now, he guesses it will take a while this time. She chuckles wetly at him. “You walked yourself all the way back here, you crazy boy.”

Peter takes another hazy stab at lifting the mood: “Crazy, ‘s m’ - uh, my…”

���Middle name?” supplies Mister Stark, subdued.

“Mm. M’ middle name.”

The crease in his mentor’s brow sets off a warning pang in his chest. 

“M’ster St’rk?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Is ev’rythin’ all, uh…” his brain and mouth won’t work together to produce the words he wants. “All, all, um.”

Tony seems to sense the root of his concern. “You’re safe. I made sure of it myself. Multiple times. We have those guys handled, I promise.” He rests a hand on Peter’s knee, pats it a few times, but he gets the feeling that he’s holding back from doing something as intimate as wiping tears from where they’ve halted, quivering, in the hollows of his eye sockets. In a quiet corner of his mind, Peter wishes he would. 

“Oh. ‘kay.”

He can’t quite bring himself to believe it.

---

The next time he wakes up, he’s gained a new level of coherence that leads him to take stock of the state he’s in. The dressing on his face feels damp but cool with whatever they’ve used to treat the burns. The burns he doesn’t want to think about. 

There’s a splint and a layer of gauze across his nose to reset it; a cast on his hand, one on his forearm, and a sling holding the whole arm at a 90-degree angle. It alleviates the burning pain he’d barely even processed in his collarbone. He can feel a dressing across the lashes on his back, too, and an ice pack laid across his swollen ribs over the hospital gown he’s now dressed in. He’s free from a cannula, thankfully; there are just two IV lines trailing from the crook of his arm and the back of his hand respectively.

God, I’m a mess.

It’s certainly the most wiped-out he’s ever felt. His eyelids are ten-tonne weights.

The trouble comes when May offers him a plastic cup upon noticing his return to consciousness. “Do you want a couple of ice chips, honey?”

“Would you like some clothes?”

Peter’s heart picks up the pace.

“Uh, I - I don’ know.”

“You don’t know?” May presses, brows knitting, and he’s letting her down. She wants an answer.

“Wha’s, wha’s gonna happ’n?” he asks tremulously, recalling the thump of a whip descending on his back, the echoes of his own screams accompanied by the sickening cracking of bones, a million hands pressing him to the ground, and simply needing to know that he’s safe from it.

He is safe. He knows that. But a more primal part of him is terrified.

“What do you mean, baby? Are you feeling okay?”

From his accustomed place at Peter’s right side, Tony leans forward in his seat and interjects. “Hey, is this something to do with…?”

Peter isn’t sure why he says it. It just comes out. “T’ earn wha’ I need, I gotta take punishmen’.”

There’s an ugly silence. Tony sets a hand over Peter’s ankle; Peter can pick up the tremors in his grip. May chews on her lower lip. 

“Kid,” Tony says quietly.

“‘M sorry, it just… that’s wha’ they said. I know ‘s not… bu’, uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” Tony frowns good-naturedly, signalling a Mister Stark-patented statement on the way, and sure enough: “I don’t want to hear the word sorry out of your mouth for at least a month.”

It’s familiar, comforting, and helps Peter ground himself in the room, the hospital bed, the safe place. 

He smiles wonkily at Mister Stark. “Y’know tha’s unrealistic.”

“Seriously, kid, are you gonna take the ice chips?” is the amusement-tinged response. Tony nods towards the cup now set down on the overbed table, his countenance radiating a schooled softness. “No strings attached, that’s a guarantee.”

“Sure,” Peter blusters, shrugging then regretting it as his collarbone is struck with a stabbing pain. “‘kay.”

May pushes a few chips into his mouth, softly pushing away his good hand, which he notices is weighed down by fatigue and more spindly than the last time he’d been in the MedBay. Almost a month of starvation does that to you, he guesses.  The ice chips are heavenly against his arid throat.

“Is that how you got all banged up?” Tony inquires softly, re-igniting the previous thread of conversation, and although it unearths the reel of harrowing memories that blemish his recent past, something in Peter yearns to tell Mister Stark, to show him that he’d tried his best, even if it doesn’t appear that way.

He’d gotten captured, kidnapped, and absolutely wrecked, and he’d just waited around until Mister Stark had come to save him. Whether Oscorp was involved or not, it fosters a rankling sense of shame in his gut.

If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.

“Tony,” May hisses.

Peter nods anyway, the rustling dressing over his face irritating him. “Yeah.” He searches for Tony’s gaze, injects sincerity into his garbled speech. “I didn’ wanna ask f’r anything an’ I made it five days wi’out water. Bu’... I had to.”

“Course you did,” Mister Stark tells him with a startling level of empathy.

“I tried t’ be smart,” Peter continues, “S’ they wouldn’ hurt me t’ much.”

“Pete, I’m not grading you on how well you handled yourself in there. Relax. You got out, that’s all that matters.”

“You go’ me out,” mutters Peter.

The crow’s feet lining Mister Stark’s eyes deepen. “Same difference,” he affirms.

But it isn’t.

“Di’ you hear me, May?” he finds himself saying, blinking away a haze of rumination from his vision.

“What?”

“I called you in there, y’ know.”

The feel of the vintage telephone he’d wished into being is somehow more concrete than the real memories of pacing the floor and sleeping on the ceiling and not-crying and crawling when he became too weak to stand and screaming to a helpless Mister Stark as fire licked the side of his face.

“You - there was a phone?” May asks quizzically. She’s trying her very best to understand him, Peter knows, to listen to him and fix any problem he voices, to make it all better. It’s him who’s all over the place.

“No. There wasn’ anything. Just tiles. Bu’ I pretended. Thought y’ might hear anyway.”

His remark breaks something in May. With a sharp inhale, she pushes back her chair and stands, looking anywhere but at Peter, at the casts and dressings and stitches that hold him together. “You know what?” she says loudly, “I’m gonna - do you want a milkshake, Peter? I’m getting you a milkshake. Something nice to get you back to solid foods.”

She rakes a hand through her unwashed hair and leaves.

The mattress feels too soft for Peter now, dipping under his weight. He wallows in his own stupidity.

His memories are now too dark to share with May: she isn’t a superhero, just a woman who has lost her husband and who didn’t ask to be pulled into a world where she risks losing her nephew too. She didn’t ask to have another person to worry about, but here Peter is, breaking her heart. He almost wishes she didn’t care so ardently as she does, didn’t long so fruitlessly to protect him from the wear and tear of the superhuman world.

The silence between him and Mister Stark hangs heavily, riddled with tension and the shared recollection of Peter’s screams.

Only when Tony clears his throat and says, “I set you up a new phone,” is he pulled away from his thoughts.

“You di’?”

It’s tossed into his lap. “Go ahead and text your little Gen Z heart away.”

As hard as Peter tries to turn the device on and swipe over to his apps with his one uninjured hand, it just slips from his grip. His face reddens.

“M’ster S’rk?”

“Yuh-huh?” Mister Stark hasn’t yet noticed, having angled himself away from Peter a little and placed his head in his hands. At Peter’s sheepish call, he twists to face him again in a series of jerks. “Oh.” He lunges for the phone, newly sober. “Oh, yeah. How about I read everything out for you?”

In an instant, the notion of Mister Stark seeing all his texts manifests in all its horrifying glory, and Peter finds himself fearing something as trivial as the discovery of his awkward message history with MJ and nerdy conversations with Ned. It’s oddly relieving.

“Don’ spy on my texts,” he protests weakly. The blue light reflecting on Mister Stark’s face serves as a blatant reminder that his mentor might just be betraying him already.

Tony smirks. “I can’t not spy on them if they’re right there.”

Peter lets out a huff that he hopes conveys the entirety of his indignance, although he’s aware the side of his face that’s free of dressings probably doesn’t create a very threatening image.

“There you are,” Tony chuckles in the face of his display, “I was waiting for that little frown.”

“‘M not little.”

“If you say so, pipsqueak.”

Peter rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can. “Jus’ let me talk t’ Ned ‘nd MJ.”

“Video call?” Mister Stark suggests as if he hasn’t yet noticed the way Peter’s face must look.

The thought of his friends seeing the human punching bag he’s become cuts a sense of horror in him too deep for the lightness of the interaction he’s engaged in.

“No, no, no,” he rushes to say before hurriedly covering his panic with a languid shake of his head. “No calls. Text.”

“And you’re gonna dictate them to me like I’m a medieval scribe?”

“I dig tha’.” Peter finds himself letting out a short bark of laughter despite himself. He’s a melting pot of emotion, experiencing everything at once.

“I resent that,” retorts his mentor lightly.

“Suck i’ up, M’ster S’rk. ‘m an invalid, y’ gotta do what I say.”

Tony just swallows. Peter hopes he didn’t say the wrong thing again.

“Di’ Ned say anything?” he prompts eventually.

“A great many things. Forty-two, in fact.”

“Oh, man.” Just the thought of forty-two things makes his head spin. Ned probably went out of his mind. “Don’ think I c’d process tha’ right now. Jus’... tell him I’m alrigh’. ‘M alive an’ he can finish the Imperial S’r Destroyer wi’out me.”

“The Imperial Star Destroyer?” echoes Mister Stark, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Peter remembers the enthusiasm he used to hold for things like this. He tries hollowly but valiantly to recreate that excitement as he replies: “‘S got four thousan’, seven h’ndred an’ eighty four pieces, M’ster St’rk. Isn't tha’ crazy?”

His mentor’s eyes crinkle amiably as he regards Peter, shifting back a little in his seat as if the levity has physically purged some of his stress. “You built all of that?”

“We w’re gonna,” shrugs Peter.

“He’s typing already. It’s… I have to break it to you, Pete, but his fine motor skills seem to have declined significantly in the time you were gone.”

“Wha’ do y’ mean?”

“It’s just a string of random letters.”

“He’s keyb’rd smashin’, M’ster St’rk,” Peter giggles, ignoring the rasp of his throat.

Tony clicks his tongue. “I won’t even ask.”

Making an attempt to lean upwards in his bed and towards the glow of the screen in Mister Stark’s hands which is quickly aborted by the ache of his ribs and back, Peter urges, “Wha’s he sayin’ now?”

“I think I made out a holy shit somewhere in there… I’m gonna kill you, I thought you were dead… No, I am not finishing the Destroyer without you…”

Peter smiles.

“What happened? With an abundance of question marks.” Raising his eyeline with a dip of his brows, Tony studies him for a moment.

“Tell him i’ was S’ider-Man stuff an’ I got in trouble but ‘m alrigh’,” Peter tells him as firmly as he can.

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“He’ll stress ou’.”

Setting aside the phone in favour of lacing his fingers together atop his lap, Tony sighs, heralding a lecture to come. “Kid, I won’t lie to you,” he says with surprising softness, “Not everything just goes away once you’re back in the world. Some things never do. You - you know that, right? You’re prepared for that?”

At that very moment, Peter is saved by the bustling entrance of May, who sets a creamy drink before him and smiles hopefully. “I got you salted caramel.”

“Th’nk you so much, May.” Inexplicably, it’s the drink, the way his enhanced senses pick up the rich, sugary smell and the slow bleeding of caramel syrup into the milky base, which rekindles passion in Peter, infuses a little color into his world. He lifts his hand until it rests on her arm, too weak to raise it further, and she sets her hand a little awkwardly but with sincerity over his. 

“S’lted caramel’s the bes’.”

“I know, honey.” Returning his smile shakily, she squeezes his hand and tells him, “Now, I want you to enjoy it, okay? It’s - it’s your first...”

Where she trails off, he picks up. “My firs’ drink back in the real w’rld.”

May nods, blinking fiercely. Everything Peter does seems to upset her. So he shuts up and latches on to the straw of the drink.

It’s mind-blowingly good. It’s cool and thick and delicious and makes him feel a whole lot better.

“Can I swear?” he pipes up out of the blue. “Jus’ once?”

Mister Stark indulges him. “Go on.”

“H’ly fuck , I’ve missed s’lted caramel.”

---

Peter tried to escape. He did.

The second time he heard the rhythmic beat of boots nearing his cell, he leapt up onto the wall right beside the door, flattening himself against the tile in the hope that the masked group would be taken by surprise by his sudden attack. With nothing but unbridled terror on his side, he prepared to take out four armed guards who had wrestled him easily to the floor the day before.

The force of the group was unneeded, it transpired. As soon as Peter threw his first weakened punch, the room filled with the torturous whistle, making him drop to the floor in shock.

“Would you like anything?” he was asked mildly after the noise had ceased at last. 

From his sprawled position on the floor, hands still covering his ringing ears, Peter shook his head vehemently. “No. Please, go away.”

White tiles spun with the dizzying motion of a carousel before his vision, the cacophony of retreating boots at odds with the thousands of dismembered feet he sees tramping across the unidentifiable orb of the cell. Peter bit back a cry of pain as the slam of the door assaulted his ears, rocking his head back and forth, back and forth, losing himself in the distracting motion.

His swallows became avalanches, blinking like the shutter of a camera pressed against his eyes.

“Oh, man,” he mumbled unevenly, nausea creeping up his throat. “Pull yourself together, Peter. Come on. Just - chill.”

It wasn’t the first time his senses had overloaded. The bout of sickness after the spider bite; his first overwhelming patrol; a school day he’d attended on a single hour of sleep; all had brought about these almost familiar symptoms. But before, he could crawl between his sheets, relaxing in the familiar scent of his room, and call it a day. He could stumble through his day in sunglasses and headphones, knowing it would pass. He could even lock himself in the dark, soundproofed room in the Compound - the isolation room - and shut out every sensation but his own breath and heartbeat. In his box, there was nothing to distract him from the frightening lack of control that came with the sensory overload but his own sheer willpower.

So he continued to rock back and forth for what could have been hours, simply waiting for the storm to pass by.

---

Peter wakes to a sweat-soaked hospital gown and a lump in his throat.

Sucking in a raw breath, he takes in the room: Tony stirring at his side and May passed out at his other. Nothing out of the ordinary. He burns all over, however, damp and shaky and aching.

“Kid?” Tony mutters, righting himself and rubbing at his eyes.

“Mister St’rk, I gotta go t’ the isolation room,” he blurts.

That gets Mister Stark up quickly. He takes in Peter’s taut face, his good hand clenched in the sheets, the beads of moisture at his hairline, and nods.

The transferral from his bed to a wheelchair is awkward and excruciating, with Tony struggling to bundle his fragile limbs and IV lines safely into the seat while Peter shuts his eyes against the red-hot pokers of Tony’s hands on him and the shifting of the synthetic overhead lights against his skull and the jostling of his arm and back and ribs and face. It’s worth it , he tells himself. Just a few minutes and there will be blissful silence.

“Nightmare?” Tony asks him in a hushed tone as he wheels him down corridors and into the lift.

“Flashback, I th’nk.”

Tony’s hand settles in his slick curls; he wordlessly combs them out, his touch feather-light, and it’s a welcome distraction from the deafening creaking of the cables around them.

Guiding him and his IV stand into the darkened room, he half-shuts the door and breathes, “Anything you need, give FRIDAY a command, remember? She won’t make any noise. I’ll come and get you out when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, his brain rattling with the volume. 

The door is eased shut, leaving only blissful quiet.

Blissful for a short while, anyway.

Peter has never loved the isolation room. As helpful as it is to rebalance his senses, the very name reminds him of why it scares him - isolation. Now, bound to his wheelchair, hearing only his own heartbeat, all he can think of are the days in his cell wracked with pain too great to allow him to move but also gripped by terrible loneliness.

The fear of being alone has dogged him all his life. Re-starting his life without his parents. Watching Ben bleed out on the ground before him. Floundering under the weight of the collapsed warehouse. Never was it more starkly exposed, however, than the twenty-one days he’d spent in his box.

He’d been scared. He could have rotted there forever, his last breath plagued by the loneliness he’d fought so hard to run from.

“FRIDAY,” he gasps, “Get me ou’ of here.”

Tony comes rushing through, concern clear on his face, but Peter wants nothing more than to cling to him and never let go, so he does just that, clutching him until he grunts at the pain radiating from his ribs.

“Kid, I’m here. You’re fine.”

“Didn’ work,” he says into Tony’s shoulder.

“I know.” Mister Stark’s voice brims with sadness. “It’s okay, let’s just - take a breather for a minute. Sit here.”

“Can’ do much else,” huffs Peter.

They rest, Mister Stark breathing into Peter’s hair while he keeps his hand stuck stubbornly to his mentor’s back.

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 57

Chapter Summary - Alexianna has to think about her predicament and what she will do regarding it, including if she will tell Tom but she is terrified of his reaction.

WARNING - CONTAINS REFERENCES TO PAST POST-NATAL DEPRESSION

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​​ @winterisakiller​​​ @theoneanna​​​

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NOTES - So, yeah, with unplanned pregnancies, I have yet to meet a woman that does not have a huge panic attack at the situation and many are not immediately sure of what is the right thing *for them* I have to put that here, because everyone is different and everyone's reasons for their choice are theirs alone and damn it, I won't apologise for having Alexianna and Tom react as they do in this entirely made up scenario.

Alexianna simply stared at the test. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were careful, they always used two forms of protection in case one failed. She made sure that she was safe. Jonathan had refused to wear condoms on the grounds they “didn’t feel good” but Tom was the first to agree that he had a role in preventative matters also. Her eyes widened. Tom would surely have a reaction close to her own, she had ruined everything. They were happy, he had his space and his freedom but they also had each other, and now she had ruined that. A baby, another….she shook her head slightly, she couldn’t, not again. Before she had Daniel, now he had his life and she knew that he wanted that life and she could not take it from him. Tom would not want to be tied down, not like this. How could he? He was famous, children, biological children were not the same as assisting with his girlfriend’s daughter when he was available. He had been as stern as her regarding contraception, she knew kids were not something he planned on any time soon. She put the little device in some toilet paper and into her pocket to dispose of in the wheelie bin outside so it would not be found by anyone before going back into the bedroom and taking out her phone, Googling the nearest clinics before pausing.

It was Christmas eve, no doubt most of them were closed until after New Years, also, how could she ask Tom to take her to a particular centre passed several other medical centres in the area, he was by no means stupid, so instead, she Googled ones in London, she could sort it when they returned after the holidays. All she had to do was at naturally for the few days and she would be able to fix everything when they returned to London without anyone knowing anything.

The issue became that she did not act naturally when she returned downstairs. Immediately, Tom, Diana and Lily all seemed to realise something was not alright with her. It was clear to see that she was thinking of something that was stealing her attention.

“Darling? Lexi?”

She jumped slightly as Tom spoke to her. “Hmm, what, sorry?”

“Are you alright, Sweetheart? You seem completely out of sorts?”

“Yeah, just...not feeling the best.” She dismissed, which, considering the shock she had just gotten, was no lie.

“Do you need to lie down for a while? Mum has lunch on but if you’re not feeling the best, you should have a small rest.”

“I’m fine. I’m just thinking over a few things.”

“Is it the interviews? Lexi, you will do amazingly. You have a perfect record with work as it is and your college scores, as you predicted, are on track for a 1:1 with this work...Lexi?”

Alexianna’s face blanched as she thought of her degree. In her worries about her relationship, she had forgotten the job interviews and more importantly, her degree. She could not possibly have had this happen at a worse time. “Oh, God.”

“What, what is it? Did you forget something? Something to do with college?” Tom asked, terrified by her terror.

Alexianna forced herself out of her head. She was dealing with it, she had her plan so she needed to cease her madness and get on with the day at hand. “I thought I forgot something, but it’s fine. I am just a little messed up.” It wasn’t a lie, she was feeling incredibly messed up but there was nothing she could do about it at that moment.

“Well, I am glad it’s not the terrifying thing you were worried about, but please, Darling, if you are so out of sorts, go lie down.”

“Lily…”

“Would rather her Mum be more able for Santa and associated madness in the morning, I would imagine.” Tom gently took her hand and guided her to the stairs. “Her grandmother and Daddy can look after her for a while. You have been so busy with work and college, you need a rest. You looked like if you slept twenty-four hours, you could still sleep twenty-four more.”

Alexianna gave a small smile. It had been the same with Lily, her biggest issue for the majority of her pregnancy was tiredness. Before she ever realised she was pregnant, she felt tired, she hadn’t realised that it was happening again. She had put it down to study, exams and work, as well as juggling her home life, she didn’t realise her body was warning her of the hormone production required to create another child. “I probably could.”

They walked into the bedroom and Tom let go of her hand as she removed her jumper. When she took it off and folded it over the back of the chair, then turned to face him again, her heart felt like it had stopped.

Tom was holding the instructions to the pregnancy test in his hand. For a moment, he was reading it before he looked at her. “Lexi?” She swallowed. “Why…?”

“I’m sorry.” She felt the tears fall.

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know how it happened, I swear.”

“You’re…” Tom realised at that moment why she was so out of sorts since the Co-Op. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m sorry.” She apologised again. “I never meant for it to happen. I’ll deal with it when we get back.”

Tom looked at her in shock. “Deal with it? You mean…” He realised what she was referencing. “Were you going to tell me?”

“I…I didn’t want to ruin us.”

“And you thought that keeping this,” he shook the piece of paper. “A secret wouldn’t ruin us? Secrets? Secrets are what ruin people. Ruin relationships.”

“I’m sorry.” She cried more, feeling even more guilty at what he had said.

Tom stopped himself from getting angry. He wanted to be angry at her for not confiding her fear with him. He wanted to be angry she had not said anything about doing a test or indeed making a decision on it, but it was clear she was terrified. She was sobbing as though someone had struck her with the worst possible words. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself that she had been trained to think this was the end of the world. Jonathan did his most damage and controlling of her while she was pregnant with Lily, of course, to Alexianna, pregnancy was world ending, it was what she was taught, even as a youth by her mother, the warning was “Don’t ever darken my door if you get pregnant”. As much as Diana feared her daughters getting pregnant too young, or her son getting a girl pregnant, she also instilled in them a rational approach to the topic, that altered the manner in which they saw the issue. “Lexi…” She looked at him, only for a moment. “Darling, please, try to calm yourself.” He walked forward slowly. “This is clearly a shock, I take it you only did this after our trip to the shop?” She nodded. “So you had no inkling before?”

She shook her head. “We were so careful.”

Tom had to admit, it was true. He always made sure not to tear the condom, he always made sure to hold it when they had finished their intimacy and discard it carefully. He knew she took her pills religiously. “Sometimes, these things just happen. We were not careless, so I know it makes it more of a shock, but Lexi, it’s alright.”

“How do you not hate me?”

Tom felt terrible, he leant forward, brought her to him and kissed her head. “I could never hate you for this, Lexi. You didn’t mean for it to happen and you cannot be to blame for it. I was there too. I very much had an active role in this. I am as much at fault.” He kissed her head again. “How long?”

“Nearly three weeks, according to the test.”

Tom remained quiet for a moment as he tried to calculate when they had been intimate over the month of December. “So...when…?”

“The night at yours alone, I think. That’s the safest bet as to when.”

Tom recalled the night and gave a slight huff of a laugh, causing Alexianna to look at him with confused and tear-reddened eyes. “Well, then I am the majority person to blame. It was my idea, I very much was the one to initiate things and I very much am the one that did the majority of the actions that put us in this position.” He chuckled. “So blame me, not you.”

“But I…”

“No, Lexi. You are not to blame for your body having the criteria to make a baby being reached. We are both adults, we both partook in consensual sex and we both took responsibility for prevention, somewhere, something did not go as it was supposed to and that happens, you alone are not to blame.” He made sure to look at her as he spoke. “I think you and I need to have this discussion away from the house. We don’t need anyone hearing this.”

Nodding slightly, Alexianna got her jumper and put it back on before following him out the door of the bedroom and back downstairs.

“Mum?” Diana came into the hallway at Tom calling her. “Mum, Lexi and I need to step out for a while, could you look after Lily?”

“Can I come?” Lily looked hopefully at Tom.

Tom knelt down so he was looking her in the face. “Not this time, Princess, Mum and I have something very important to talk about that is boring and grown up so it is best if you stay here for now. I promise, we will bring you on a spin soon, not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we will go on a spin soon the three of us, alright?”

Alexianna said nothing as she watched Tom interact with Lily. She looked at Diana who was studying both her and Tom, worried by the peculiar atmosphere that was in the air. “What about lunch?” She asked her son.

“We won’t be too long, we just need to sort something. Keep it warm.” He explained before grabbing their coats and his car keys and gently ushering Alexianna towards the door.

“Mommy, are you alright?” Lily focused on her mother’s silence.

“Yeah, I am just not feeling well, Sweetheart. Daddy is just getting me out for a while to see if that can help me in any bit.” She smiled. “I don’t want to be sick for when Santa comes tonight.”

Hearing her mother reference what Lily believed to be the greatest human being in existence, albeit a magical one, she nodded and jumped up and down. “No one wants to be sick for Santa.”

“Absolutely not, so you help Nana, and we will see you soon, Princess.” Tom smiled, kissing her head and leading them out the door.

They said nothing as they got into the car and drove off. Neither of them spoke the entire of the journey. When Tom pulled in at an all but abandoned car park facing the water, he turned off the engine and for several more moments, they remained silent.

“We need to actually talk about this, Lexi.” He began. “I want us to discuss this, so we can do what is right and not have regrets. If you want to go ahead as you plan when you get back to London, I want to be beside you, supporting you, no matter what. I cannot make this decision for us but I want to be part of it, please.”

“I can’t do this, not right now.” she looked at her hands as she spoke.

“I respect that if that is how you feel, I will not rubbish that, you are the one with the final decision here, I would never force you to do anything but can we talk through it?”

“I can’t do it again.”

“Do what?”

“Have another baby. Try and juggle it all again, this time with no Daniel.”

“Daniel isn’t here, he’s in Scotland, yes, but he would still be part of everything, you know that. And this time, if you had it, you would have me here, I would be here.” She looked at him worriedly. “You think I’d leave?” She said nothing. “Do you really think I am like him?”

“He didn’t…” She stopped when she realised how much her comparing Tom to her ex-husband hurt him. “I barely got by last time...if...I couldn’t do it again, not with two, alone.”

Tom stopped himself from speaking for a moment, he chose his words carefully so as not to upset her more, seeing she was close to tears again. “We’ll talk through the two options. If you really think it is for the best, we will go to the clinic together, a good private one where you will have the privacy to do what you wish to do and I will be there with you, a hundred per cent, but let’s talk through this. We can’t change anything today, it’s too late, everywhere is closed, if anything, this gives us time to process everything and be happy with our decision.”

“You really want to be part of this?”

Tom nodded. “I am very much part of this. As I said, I am technically the one to cause this. It was my idea, my initiating, I literally am a considerable part of this and I will play my part in owning up to the responsibility of it.” He took her hand in his. “I want to see it as you do. So, please tell me, why do you think it is the best option?”

“Everything.”

“No, come on, you can expand on it. You are the most intelligent and eloquent woman, do better than that.”

“I have not finished college yet.”

“No, you have not,a valid point,” Tom acknowledged. “You are due to finish in May. Say for a minute you went through with it, when would it be born?”

“About September? I think. I didn’t do the calculations.”

“Okay, so taking into account that, you have a few months of a window. though the morning sickness and studying for exams sound shit.” He noted. “But you are finishing your degree in May, so you don’t have any more classes after that.”

“What if I want to do a Masters?”

“You didn’t mention one before now, has that been something you have been thinking about of late?

“Not immediately.”

“Well then, that would be a bridge to think about too. If you were to do a Masters, what could we do about it? I suppose you would have to consider that. What else?”

“Work.”

“Right?”

“I want this new job, Tom. It’s better, it’s more my area of interest, I can’t apply, maybe get it then drop on them that I am pregnant.”

“They cannot discriminate against you if you are.”

Alexianna scoffed. “Not openly, Tom, but be reasonable, they can find other reasons to not choose me as an excuse.”

“Don’t tell them until after the interviews?” He suggested.

“That’s not particularly honest, is it?” Alexianna argued. “I cannot do both, a baby and a new job is not an option.”

Tom sighed. He didn’t want to shove her down a particular path she did not want. “Is that the only reason?”

“The cost.”

Tom scoffed. “I can afford that side of it, no matter what, I will pay for whatever you decide.”

“We are in two different houses. We are only together not long over a year.”

“We would obviously have to move in together so I could be there and make sure to help you with the baby and Lily. We also may only be together that long but we know each other since you were eight, Lexi. Eight years old. We know each other for almost a quarter of a century.”

“That’s the other thing, Lily.” She pointed out. Tom gave her one glance. “It is one thing saying she wants a sibling, it is not a teddy she can put in a corner. You can’t get rid of it because you regret your decision to have it.”

“Lily would love it, and you know it.”

“But what about Lily?”

“We just mentioned her.”

“No, but if...if we had a baby together, would you…?”

“Would I what?”

“Still love her?”

Tom didn’t even hesitate to answer. “Of course, she is my daughter. Lexi, I chose to be her father, I knew that come anything between us, I was choosing a role for life. She is my little girl and if we have this baby or if we choose never to have one, or have twenty, I will always love her as ferociously as I do now. She’s my little girl.” She swallowed. “I am not going to pretend that the idea of us creating this little human being that has my DNA isn’t one of the most incredible ideas in the world but even with her not sharing my DNA, nothing in this world will change how I see Lily.”

Alexianna stared at him. “You want it.” Tom frowned, his brow furrowing as he wondered what she was referencing. “You want me to have it.”

“I am not going to influence your decision.” He looked away from her.

“Tom, please.” He looked back at her again. “I am being honest with you, please be honest with me.”

Tom bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment. He needed to choose his words carefully and he knew it. His first instinct when she referenced getting a termination was the anger that she would have the baby of the man that abused her, emotionally and otherwise and terminate his child, the one they made, albeit accidentally, with a good, loving relationship. But he said nothing of that. He knew himself that he could not, it was manipulation and cruel to spit that at her. But she had explained her valid reasons why a baby was not something they were entirely ready for at that time, so he would be honest back. “I want it.” He stated. “I want our baby. Our...Even saying it, a baby, this little human being that we made. I want it.”

Alexianna swallowed. “But if I can’t…?”

Tom forced the smile he had at the idea to remain hidden. “Then, we can’t. It is that simple. You have to do the hard part, you are the one that has to try and juggle it, work and college. I can promise to do my share, and you know I will provide for it, you, our family, but you are the one that has to do more, so if you say no, then no it is. I will never hold that against you, Lexi. I promise. You have to do what is right for you, no excuses.”

Alexianna nodded slightly at his words. “Tom?”

“Yes, Darling?”

“Can I go for a walk by myself for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” He pulled the key out of the ignition which automatically unlocked the car. “I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t, I’ll get a cab back.”

“Not at this hour, most of them will be off early today. Take the time you need, I will wait here.” He insisted, terrified of her being out after dark by herself, unable to get back to the house.

“I might be a while.”

“Then I will wait a while.” He smiled. “Right here...or possibly as far as the bathrooms.”

Alexianna gave a small laugh at that before smiling. “Thank you, Tom.”

“What for?”

“Being you. Being this amazing man that is calm and rational. I would be so lost without you.”

“You’re one of the most rational women I know.” She gave him a quizzical look. “You’ve just been served a curveball, this doesn’t count.”

“Thank you.” She smiled again taking her coat out of the backseat and getting out of the car.

Tom watched as she walked along the seafront for a few minutes before she became a blur to him. He took out his phone and immediately started researching different things, processing what he was reading and his thoughts.

*

Alexianna thought over what Tom said. She thought over how she would get her exams done and though morning sickness was a nuisance, she could do it. She thought of how she would have to deal with the work issue, she wanted that other job so badly, if she could figure that out...She paused. In those few minutes, she realised that she was not as terrified as before. Tom’s support, his want to be there for her meant that she felt she could see more positives to her situation.

She wanted a child with Tom, down the road, if they were both willing. She was unsure if this was a good time but Tom did. She wondered if he knew what this would mean, the sacrifices they would both have to be willing to make. His life would not be easy either but she knew, come what may, he would not do as Jonathan did, she just knew it. He would be there, for Lily too. His immediate declaration that Lily would remain as she was to him instilled some hope in her also, but she was still scared, all she could do was think it over.

Alexianna realised she had left the seafront and was walking through the town. A few of the shops were already closed, a few more seemed to be closing. One, in particular, caught her interest. She walked in and grabbed two items and walked to the till.

*

Tom sat reading in his car. Alexianna had been gone for twenty minutes. He hoped she was thinking over her options in her head now that she had more information to allow her to make a more informed decision. He meant what he said, no matter what, he would support her. When he looked out, he recognised her warm red winter coat making its way up the seafront towards him again. He turned on the car and waited. He watched as she got in and sat beside him, a pharmacy bag in her hand. Nervously, he looked at it. “Is that it?”

Alexianna shook her head. “No, you have to go to clinics for those, they’re not available over the counter.” She explained before opening the bag. “I am still processing all of this, but…” She took out two boxes and a bottle of water. “There was folic acid in my other multivitamin, this has the recommended pregnancy amount and these are more tailored to what I need at the moment too.” She held up the two boxes and showed him, one was a folic acid supplement for pregnant women and the other was a pregnancy brand multivitamin. “I am not taking any risks.”

“Does this mean….?” Tom was scared to ask.

Alexianna bit her lips together for a moment. “If it’s a girl?”

Tom smiled. “Then I will never get a good night’s sleep again.” He laughed. “Two daughters….I am warning you now, no one will ever be good enough for my Princesses.”

[luciferisanassbutt]

A Fanfic

Raphael had known from the moment she turned ten that she was not like her other brothers. Of course, a lot had happened at that point in her life- her adopted mother was possed by an evil spirit, their dad decided that this was the perfect age for his oldest four to take up hunting, and they started living in motels and eating whatever Michael had learned to cook or order.

It started with the living situation, forced to share beds and thankful that they were all still small enough to do so without being uncomfortable. Though, how Castiel often chose to sleep- stretched across the bottom of the bed or curled like a cat- couldn’t be comfortable by any stretch of the word. It was still uncomfortable to a degree, to be squished between Gabriel and Lucifer, though Lucifer often left during the night to join Michael on the floor or couch if the room had one.

She didn’t like being so close to them all, it was all. Probably just puberty, she had decided. 

Then, there came the bathroom situation. With seven of them, all of them supposed boys, modesty wasn’t really a thing. Bathing or showering wasn’t that big of a problem, especially if someone (namely Lucifer) decided to barge in because someone else was taking too long and wasting the hot water. Changing clothes wasn’t a big deal either, usually done in the middle of the room with no shame from the person (mainly Balthazar or Gabriel). But now, Raphael wanted privacy to do those things. It was respected, for the most part. 

Samandriel was learning to walk and Castiel hated closed doors, a recipe for disaster in Raphael’s case, and Balthazar enjoyed being their ring leader. Michael and Gabriel let her be, the only one seeming to enjoy barging in being Lucifer, who would often make a mocking remark about her suddenly becoming a girl or something. 

A locked door solved that problem.

But, the remark had stuck with her, because she wished it was true. 

*~*

The first person to find her out was, to her distress, Lucifer. Because of course it was. She had thought for sure Gabriel would be the first, maybe Castiel, as both of them were too curious for their own good. Lucifer was the same, but so much worse- curious and invasive, sniffing out all secrets for the right to mock the owner of it.

“So, you’re doing drugs.” Had been his opening line, a shit-eating grin on his face as he held out a bag to her. The same blue and black bag she used to hide the little pill bottles she had stolen from the pharmacy a few weeks back and that rattled when Lucifer gave them a shake. 

“Give those to me!” She snapped and lunged at him, but Lucifer was taller and held the bag out of reach. 

Lucifer held up his other hand in surrender but didn’t give back the bag. “Hey, I’m not judging, just curious as to what they are. You’re such a good little boy, I figured it wouldn’t be anything too bad, even if it is a pill. Adderal? I can’t really tell since you scratched out the bottles.”

“Stay out of my shit!” She snapped again, stomping down the bitterness and disgust at the term boy and making a grab for the bag again. Lucifer just held it further out of reach and she cursed the Shurley bloodline for producing children with such long arms.

“Don’t have shit that you don’t want me to find,” Lucifer said, his grin finally vanishing. “No, seriously. What is this? Are you like self-medicating or something? This isn’t something you can find on the street, at least not in the bottle. You got some mental problem you wanna share with the rest of us?”

She paused and considered her options. Best case scenario, she doesn’t say anything and Lucifer tells Michael and Michael tells her not to do drugs or she’ll end up like Lucifer and that will start a fight between them. Worst case scenario, she tells the truth and Lucifer is grossed out and tells Michael and everyone is grossed out and she has to leave.

She can only really hope for not-the-best-but-not-the-worst, telling Lucifer and he doesn’t care one way or another. 

“It’s Estradurin. It’s used to treat prostate cancer and breast cancer. It’s also...” She hesitated and swallowed thickly, not wanting to continue but feeling the need to explain before Lucifer told Michael. “It’s used for transitioning. You know, from male to female.”

Lucifer was quiet, quieter than Raphael had ever heard him, and it made her anxious. He always had something to say, even when he should keep his mouth shut.

“I stole it from a pharmacy in the last town we stopped at. I’m...I don’t feel right in this body and this is making me feel better. It’s helping me become what I need to be. It’s...I don’t want to be your brother. I’m not your brother. I’m...” She paused, swallowing thickly before saying softly, “Please don’t tell Michael.” 

Because that was who she was really afraid of finding out. Not Chuck, her adopted father, or anyone else in the family. Michael, who wore a little golden cross around his neck and who read a book that said people like Raphael deserved to burn in Hell. Michael, who was a much bigger part of her life than Chuck could ever be, who with one word could have her kicked out on the street; she wasn’t family, not by blood, even if that never mattered until now. 

That thought was a bit ridiculous, she knew. Michael didn’t have that kind of power over any of them and she knew they all loved her dearly. But still, Michael was deeply religious and it did affect his views on things, even if he didn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this well, she knew.

“Why would I tell Michael?” Lucifer finally asked, lowering his arm and allowing her to snatch back her pills. “Look, it’s fine that you want- are- my sister. That’s cool, that’s great. There’s too many dudes in this family anyway.”

Raphael rolled her eyes but there was a smile curving on her lips. “Thanks, glad to know I’m also the token girl now.”

“Always happy to help,” Lucifer said, grinning again. “Hey, since you’re my sister now, wanna go on a date? I’m a boy, you’re a girl, you know how this goes.”

“That didn’t stop you before.” She said, holding up her hand before Lucifer could talk. “It’s still a no. I’m your fucking sister and this isn’t Flowers in the Attic.”

“Incest is the best, put your sibling to the test,” Lucifer said matter-of-factly and Raphael gave him her best bitch face.

“This is why Michael won’t cuddle with you anymore.”

*~*

When her birthday rolled around and it was time to open Lucifer’s gift. They hadn’t really talked about it since that day a few weeks ago, the most Lucifer had done was hand her a bag full of pill bottles that were stolen (she knew since it was mentioned in the news report that day), so she was a bit nervous.

But when she ripped into the package, soft and undoubtedly clothing, and unfurled a long and dark blue, frilled and with a security tag still attached to the bottom, she couldn’t help but smile.

“It will look great on you.” Lucifer had said proudly, puffing out his chest even as Michael scowled. “It’s really your color.”

“Lucifer.” Michael hissed and they started bickering again, this time about Lucifer taking the teasing maybe a bit too far, and she just smiled. 

[elven-oracle]

devotion |t.h.|

moodboard by @astral-parker

warnings: death, drinking, depiction of drunkeness, car accident

pairing: frat!tom x sorority!reader

word count: 2.2k

On your 51st wedding anniversary, you admitted to yourself that you were not married to the love of your life. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit, and it was a secret that you would hold with you until you died, but the concept of the truth setting you free was no exaggeration. You stared at your husband, old and deteriorating, and didn’t feel the same way you did when you married him 51 years ago. You had been so naive and young that it had clouded your vision slightly. Sure, you were happy. Your life had been fulfilling enough, but reaching its fullest potential would be far from possible, even when you had gotten married.

You met the love of your life in college. In 2018 you had started your second year, and you still had those bright eyes that were ready to take on the world. This year you moved into your sorority, Delta Delta Delta, and felt confident that this decision was one of the best you had ever made. Greek life was the absolute opposite of what you anticipated. Your sisters lifted you up and encouraged you to be the best person you could be, and you were determined to do the same for them.

On the second day back, before classes started, Greek row threw parties galore, but strictly in the fraternities. Those were the only Greek houses that allowed alcohol for people over the age of 21, but that was a rule that was rarely paid mind to. You had no idea what to expect at this party but attempted to feel as confident as you could when walking into Sigma Alpha Epsilon. The frat was notorious for having good-looking men, and you wanted to flirt tonight. After a few drinks, the warm feeling in your stomach fulfilled the confidence you needed, and your body made its way to the dance floor.

By the end of the night, you hadn’t really talked to anyone of particular interest, and you were starting to lose hope that there was someone here for you. Drunkenly grabbing your coat and heading for the door, a finger tapped you on the shoulder, and you stared into the face of someone that you hadn’t seen at all that night.

“Miss, can I walk you home?” he gave you a half smile that reminded you of the way people awkwardly smiled when passing in a hallway.

Your eyes were half open, “Yeah, sure, just don’t like, take advantage of me or anything,” you could feel the slurring coming out of your mouth. Your tongue felt like it had a weight on it.

He laughed, “I’m sober brother tonight. You have nothing to worry about.”

You didn’t. You woke up the next morning hardly remembering anything past that interaction, but a glass of water and two ibuprofen sat on your bedside table. Whoever he was, he definitely took care of you.

Rubbing your head, you downed the water and the pills and opened your phone to see if you had missed anything. It was 11 am on a Saturday, the day that all the first years arrived on campus. You were supposed to help them move in, but your talent of sleeping through your alarm had prevailed, and it was almost over by now. A kind text from your chapter president notified you that you had nothing to worry about, just be sure to feel better. You must have made an entrance coming home last night.

That wasn’t the text that had you concerned though, it was the other from an unknown number.

Hey! My name is Tom. I’m the junior that brought you home last night. You insisted on me texting you when I got home last night and shouted your number repeatedly at me, so, I’m home! Have a good night!

You snickered. It was normal for you to be more concerned about other people when you were drunk. This wasn’t the first time you insisted on someone texting you when they got home, only to not see it until the next morning.

The following week you found yourself going on a date with the friendly frat boy who had so kindly taken you home. Apparently, you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself on that walk from ΣΑΕ. It was only coffee, but you hadn’t been on an actual date since high school, so you had a natural enthusiasm that came with infatuation.

It was the best date you had ever been on, to say the least.

There was something about the conversation that flowed. You had anticipated the date to go for about an hour, but you both had enjoyed each other’s company so much that it went for two and a half. As he dropped you off, you almost wished that you didn’t have homework.

“I had a great time,” you smiled, opening his car door to leave.

His dark brown eyes almost looked like they sparkled, “I did too.”

The story of you and Tom falling in love was so typical, you felt like you were in a rom-com. The cute texts, the meticulously planned dates, the way that he looked at you, it was all surreal. You took care of each other. Your sophomore year of college was slowly becoming the best year of your life thus far, and you basked in every second of it.

One morning, you felt a knock on the door to your room. Glancing over at your roommate who was sound asleep, you peeled yourself out of bed and opened it to find Tom, standing in the door frame with a bouquet of sunflowers. He flashed a smile at you.

“Tom what-”

“Happy Saturday, I’ve got our whole day planned. Can you get ready in an hour?”

You smiled back at him, trying to push down the tears of joy welling up in your eyes, “Yeah I can.”

You took the flowers, him kissing your cheek, and hurried to get ready. You strategically layered your clothing, not knowing what precisely you would be doing, and tied your hair into a braid to keep it out of your face. When you walked down the stairs, the look on his face would forever be ingrained to your memory. It was how you wanted to be looked at on your wedding day, except that this was just a Saturday morning date, and you had thrown together your appearance as quickly as you could.

It was magical. The morning was still slightly frosty, being early March, but the sun shined through the car window to give a nice ounce of warmth on your face. You felt like a flower stretching out towards the sun. You looked down at your interlocked fingers and felt butterflies flurry into your stomach. Even after 7 months, Tom still felt like a breath of fresh air.

He took you to the coast, where he had already packed bagels and fruit punch to eat. Laying out a blanket, you both hugged your coats to your body, ate your food, and leaned on one another, letting the sound of the waves crashing on the shore sooth your ears.

“So is there a reason you brought me here today?” you jokingly broke the comfortable silence you both had been sitting in.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “Yeah. Actually, there is.”

You hadn’t expected there to be, you were just creating conversation. Your immediate thought was the worst case scenario, and that this was the end of it all, and Tom was about to be the love that got away.

It was precisely the opposite.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a piece of jewelry. On a chain sat the letters of his fraternity, Sigma Alpha Epsilon. ΣΑΕ. It was his lavalier.

Traditionally, for students in sororities and fraternities, there was a step between dating and engagement, and that was the tradition of the lavalier. Giving your significant other this pendant was a true confession of a man’s commitment to the woman he loves and holds above everything. You gawked at the pendent, your lips parting in shock.

“I know it’s only been seven months, but I’ve never felt more right about a decision ever in my life. I want to give this to you, and I understand if you don’t want to accept it, but I just want you to know that my devotion to you is endless, and I-” you heard his voice break, and he cleared his throat. “I love you very much.”

You laughed, still in utter shock, “Tom, yes, oh wow. I feel the exact same way-” you cut yourself off, placing your lips on his. It was a passionate, deep kiss that felt like it sealed the deal. You wanted to stay there, with him, for the rest of your life.

You loved the way the letters felt on your neck. You loved being able to announce that he had given them to you at a candle passing ceremony for TriDelta. For your entire life, it felt like that in everything you did there was a tunnel vision. You had been so caught up in your studies that love had put on the wayside. Now your view was opened up. You had more than one thing to live for.

A month later, the night before spring break, ΣΑΕ held another party similar to the one where you had met Tom. This time, you traveled over to the party excited to relax and be yourself. You had gotten to know many of his brothers over the course of the past seven months, and you felt as if you knew what you were getting yourself into as you walked up to the house.

“Y/N! Good to see you! Go grab a drink. I think Tom is in the living room, he’s sober brother tonight.”

You smiled, nodded, and headed to the kitchen to pour yourself a whiskey and Pepsi combination, leaning heavier on the whiskey. Joining Tom on the couch, you slinked into his side, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders.

By the end of the night, you were in a similar position as you were the night you two had met. You were giggly and excitable, making sure you bothered your boyfriend just the right amount. Through your dizzy and drunken state, you could tell that Tom was still giving you that loving gaze, brushing your hair out of your face every time you leaned over him to laugh.

“Miss, can I drive you home?” he finally said, kissing your forehead and tying your hair back for you.

“Drive? Drive?” the concept seemed insane to you. You only lived a three blocks away!

“You’re a little too...gone for a walk. I would rather just drive you the few blocks and carry you inside,” he stood, offering two hands to get you on your feet. You pulled your heavy eyes to meet his and laughed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s...fine.”

You didn’t think twice about it. His logic was much more sound than yours, anyway, but it was this moment that you would always remember vividly. The choice that changed your life forever.

It was only three blocks. A short, three block drive. Tom was absolutely sober, and there was nothing that should have gone awry. As you cruised slowly, you were about to tell him something.Three little words. It was a fleeting thought that you had told him over and over that night, but meant it every time. He approached a stop sign, looked at you and started driving again, returning his eyes to the road. You looked at him, his puppy dog eyes focused, his brown curls slightly off from you lovingly running your hands through them so many times, and the last thing you saw was the crook of his nose before everything exploded.

They told you it was a drunk driver. They had ran a stop sign going 60 miles per hour in a residential area, and that he was killed on impact. There was nothing they could do for him. You were lucky you made it out alive.

You barely made it out alive. The car had flipped onto its side, and you were dragged out by an EMT. By that point, you blacked out to wake up three days later. A broken hand, three broken ribs, and a fractured collarbone, eight stitches in your lip and 13 in your forehead. Months of physical therapy. A lifetime of mourning.

You never took off that lavalier.

When you were 30 years old you met someone that loved you, and someone you cared deeply for. You said the words “I love you,” but in your heart you held them for someone else. He would always be there, sitting on your heart in the three letters that bought you together.

Three letters, three words.

You sat, age 81, on your anniversary. Your spouse looked kindly into your eyes as you began to let go, walking into the light, leaving all aspects of your physical being behind. It felt like the shedding of a layer of clothing upon entering a warm, comforting room.

You opened your eyes to see the universe. Lights surrounded you, blinking, somewhat resembling a skyline. When you turned around, you saw him. That look. That loving look that you found solace in. The gentle gaze of the person you loved above all else.

“I told you my devotion was endless.”

M A S T E R L IS T

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T A G L I S T

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[memory-concentration-supple-blog]

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 There really are a great deal of mental health wellness tips that might be employed to improve mental wellness and your emotional wellness. It's a really common supplement that numerous adult men and women take to enhance their brain power. Music-playing has only gained attention as a potential ways to promote brain plasticity. Whether there are any free on-line brain games you'd like to see included with the internet site, or in the event you have any difficulties with the ones I have provided, do not hesitate to send me an message during my Contact Me page. You can also want to have a look at my free from charge Printable Math Flash Cards. Additionally, brain foods filled with antioxidants, very good fats, vitamins and minerals provide power and aid in avoiding brain diseases. Thus, you can desire to play with a number of games if you wish to teach all pieces of one's mind. There are plenty of strategies to begin taking advantage of the mind and memory-boosting advantages of socializing. Discovering that the brain can change as a consequence of experience has led to the evolution of cognitive training. When you've been recently worried about exactly how little you are all set to stay at heart, have a profound breath . 

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  Belowyou will find your brain's workout regime. The human brain needs downtime to stay sharp. Additionally, it might alter the brain, and it has been associated with changes in cognitive functioning. It will also help promote a wholesome brain. Loving your brain is your very first step in having a brain healthy living . Not enough sleep may hugely impact the human brain's performance when it has to do with memory and thinking. Notably when you suffer with anxiety, depression, stress or even a mental health disorder, it's crucial to find some mental health wellness a few ideas to use throughout your afternoon to deal with your disease. Stress is probably the brain's worst enemies.

[letsperaltiago]

every second with you I want another |Jake x Amy|

I Love You-prompt request #24: Just because.

Requested by anonymous

I hope y’all enjoy fake dating because (SPOILER ALERT) it IS HAPPENING

Word count: 2.7k

Amy Santiago is a strong woman; an independent woman; a successful woman. After 5 years with the NYPD working as a detective, that is - she’s been in pretty much every worst case scenario imaginable. That is to say that there are very few situations that she can’t handle. But after riding a wave of success and triumphing around life for so long, a disaster was bound to come around at some point. Unbelievable - yet true - said disaster turned out to come from her own family; more specifically her sister in law aka. Tony’s wife Simona.

Of course Amy loved her family to the moon and back, and she was specially close with Tony, but Simona was a pill that she couldn’t quite swallow. Actually she choked on it on a weekly basis whenever her brother’s wife sent out weekly email-blasts about the perfect lille family she’d formed with the oldest Santiago-brother and their new twins Benjamin and Bella. This particular week in May was no exception.

“Ugh,” the raven-haired woman groaned as the dreaded name appeared in her inbox with fat, obnoxious letters. “I shouldn’t even click on this,” a click of the mouse soon followed, since she needed a weekly reason to hate Simona. The mumbled words were directed at no-one in particular, but of course caught her desk-neighbour’s attention.

“Pay check?” An empathetic pout grew on his face, guessing that he could relate to whatever she was moaning about. Though all it earned him was a frown, as her eyes shot up over her screen to look at him.

“What? No.” She dropped the judgemental attitude and sighed. "It’s my brother’s annoying wife. Every week she sends out an email telling everyone in the family about how great her life is and how perfect her new twins are…” She shook her head, scrolling further down the brag-mail. “I mean, the twins are cute but-“

Her sentence was cut short by no other than herself, telling Jake that she’d seen something on her screen that apparently was worth not finishing a sentence properly. Within seconds her face had gone from just plain out annoyed to a state of the art shock and perhaps about to have a stroke. Now it was Jake’s turn to frown. “Amy?”

“No no no no! I can’t believe I forgot!”

Upon hearing his partner’s mistake, though he didn’t know exactly what kind, her partner’s face shifted from the confused frown to a straight up excited, ready-to-tease smile. “Amy Santiago! Did you finally forget something?”

“Shut up,” she groaned, frustratingly rubbing her flexed temples.

“No, tell me! What inconsequential thing did you forget?”

There was no questioning the fact that the childish man wouldn’t let this slip by without an answer, so after and pulling her face out of her hands and quickly collecting herself she proceeded to unveil her blunder.

“It’s my birthday this Sunday…”

Anti-climatic would be playing down what Jake was feeling upon hearing about a mistake that was so bad that it simply didn’t make any sense to him. Not only did even he know - and God knows he sucks at remembering anything that is of importance - but he also couldn’t quite see how it was a problem to her. Having barely just left, his frown was back. “What? You forgot your own birthday? That makes minus sense. You’re throwing yourself a bash and everything.”

“It’s not a bash, Jake,” her deadpan told him that she was displeased with his perception of her upcoming birthday dinner. “ And I didn’t exactly forget that it’s my birthday. I’d just… willingly suppressed that Simona is going to be there and that I have to face her.”

Once in a blue moon Jake Peralta felt concern and worry. Today he even acted like it, when he saw Amy’s genuine and uncharacteristic discouraged demeanour He’d been to several of Amy Santiago’s social arrangements (Thanksgiving, Christmas get-togethers, movie and game nights), but he’d never her seen her not actually enjoying. “What’s so wrong with Simona? Isn’t she your brother’s wife?”

“Exactly. She’s happily married to my perfect brother,” the words came out in what Jake could only guess was a mocking mimic of Simona’s voice. “And because of that, she won’t let go of the fact that I’m still single. She’s such a demon but I’m the only one who sees it.” With a click of a button, her computer screen was turned off with a sigh. “Maybe I should just cancel the entire thing.”

“Your entire birthday? No way. There’s always your mother’s amazing tiramisu and I would be lying if I said that the entire squad hasn’t been looking forward to it,” he had actually finished his sentence but quickly realised that there were probably better ways to do it. More empathetic ways. “… And celebrating you. Happy birthday, Ames.” Perhaps a cheeky smile would save him.

Amy didn’t look any more impressed than before as she pushed back her office chair and picked up her blazer from where it’d hung on the chair’s back. “Whatever… I’ll just have a shitty birthday. Anyways…” Quick as a flash, she picked up her purse. and gave the now silenced partner one last, slightly bummed smile. “I’ll see you guys Sunday. Don’t be late!”

Jake broke and had to smile at the last few words. They were truly Santiago-style and for a second it lightened the mood. That was until she turned away, clocking out for the weekend and left the building. Amy Santiago was feeling miserable and Jake Peralta didn’t like it one bit.

Whether Amy wanted it to or not, Sunday came around; She was going to have to face her sister-in-law’s taunts and teases. If Amy was lucky enough, Bella and Benjamin would make a fuss all day and allow their aunt to breathe; maybe even enjoy her own birthday for once. But who was she trying to fool? Bella and Benjamin were exemplary babies - even considering the fact that they were barely 2 months old.

A knock on her door immediately ripped her out of her thoughts, leading her to quickly check her reflection in the mirror. For someone who’d been running around all morning, making sure that everything was in place and ready, she couldn’t help but feel quite put together. Pretty even. Even in the midst of the morning rush she’d taken the time to curl her hair, apply a decent makeup and picking out a dress that she fancied. It was a wrap-around model made of a fiery red fabric - complimenting her black hair - and enhanced both her hips and chest without being too vulgar. All in all, Amy Santiago felt beautiful.

“Oh Amy, honey… What did I tell you about wearing the same colour all the time? Just like milk, it will expire.”

So much for feeling good about herself. Amy’s blood immediately boiled upon hearing the way too recognisable and dreaded voice. On the other hand she’d been raised well and knew better than to be rude back. So she bit her lip and slowly spun around to see face the devil herself.

“Simona,” she said through a forced smile. “So lovely that you could make it. Where’s Tony and the twins?”

It was clear that the other woman was inspecting her furnishing, every little detail of Amy’s home, while she calmly slowly strode around the room as she took off her jacket. Judgement, the worst kind, shaped her smile and even her eyes. There’s was no way that a compliment was burning to escape her. “Tony is just parking the car and the twins are with my parents for the day.”

Dammit, Amy thought. So much for fussing babies and an excellent distraction. She’d have to face the fight on her own without her niece and nephew.

Luckily, allowing her to breathe for just a while at least, Tony arrived only seconds after and the rest of the guests followed behind - including the 99-family. Though he more than often brought her so much irritation, Amy had to smile back when a nice, slacks and blazer-clad Jake appeared behind Terry and sent her a smile. “Wow, Peralta. I’m impressed.” She also couldn’t help but notice the bouquet of purple roses in his right hand.

He lightly spread his arms out to the side while quickly making a 360 turn to give her a better look at the full shebang. “I figured I’d actually follow your instructions for once. But only because it’s your birthday.” He teased back as he reached out his hand to offer her the flowers.

“I’ll take it and thank you. They’re beautiful,” the smile, having only grown wide, was still plastered across her face with eyes glistening though she didn’t even notice it herself. But it must’ve shown, because Amy had barely closed the door behind her colleagues before the devil was back at work. Right by Amy’s side, Jake had just hardly had the time to take off his blazer - maybe unspoken but impressing Amy with a neat, white and ironed dress-shirt that hugged his arms and torso nicely - before Simona’s walked up to him and put a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, Amy. You hadn’t told me that you’d gotten yourself a boyfriend?” She gave Jake an analysing elevator look before shifting it back to her sister-in-law, slightly dumfounded but not entirely convinced.

Jake - and Amy for that matter - frowned, immediately shooting confused glances at each other. It took a beat, or maybe a couple more, before before Simona’s work sunk in. Amy looked down at the flowers in her hands, “Oh… You mean Jake? He’s just-“

Before she could reveal the entire truth and give Simona the satisfaction, Jake had swung an arm around Amy’s waist and gently pulled her into his side. “Just simply the best?” He shot her his widest, most convincing smile, all while desperately sending her a glance that told her to seize the opportunity and play along.

“Right. You sure are, babe,” the last word came out hesitantly, but apparently not enough to unveil their game. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.” A peck to the cheek came next, secretly making Amy’s heart quake with uneasiness but also… affection? That last one was definitely new to her. Since when did Jake Peralta make her heart flutter in such way?

“Only the most beautiful flowers for the most beautiful girl.”

As she pulled back from the affectionate action, Amy couldn’t help but notice the slight pink tint that had suddenly spread across his cheek. What was going on? Fluttering hearts, pink cheeks, glistening eyes? This was so unlike them. Nevertheless she didn’t have time to question it further, because suddenly their entire family was swarming around them, all wondering what was going on. If only they knew that Jake and Amy themselves were thinking the exact same thing.

After a couple of hours of eating cake, celebrating, acting and also quickly catching onto the flow of how that worked, Amy quickly tugged on Jake’s hand. “A minute alone, please?” She kept up the big smile for the sake of the show, before pulling Jake with her into the kitchen. And like the good fake-boyfriend he was, he didn’t question it and simply strode along. Brewing coffee would be their cover and allow them to turn their backs to the living room while they talked. No questions were asked, but Jake couldn’t help but notice how his friend’s hands trembled as she opened a brand new packet of coffee.

“Hey, are you okay?” He looked at her as she anxiously spooned coffee into the machine. “I’m sorry I just sprung that whole dating-thing on you, but I figured it’d get Simona to shut up. I know how much she bothers you and I just don’t think it’s fair that you feel bad just because you aren’t seeing someone-”

“Jake,” she snapped her head in his directions, shuffling in closer so that their shoulders were touching and by this also shutting him up. “I-it’s okay. It’s just the adrenaline. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her look finally softened. “Thank you.” Her voice was just as soft as her smile, putting his heart at ease as he recognised her true colours. There was no force in this world that could keep him from smiling back. For a moment the world around them - aka. the Santiago-family and 99-squad mingling behind them in the living room - disappeared. It was no secret to anyone in the 99-squad and Jake himself that he had a lot of love for the woman by his side, but to Amy the matter had just been kicked around slightly. There was no doubt that she appreciated his care and what he was currently doing for her, but she still didn’t know how to categorise her friend. Did she go along with this because she had to in front of Simona? Or because she wanted to and Simona was an excellent excuse?

“So this will be a 20 dollars pr. hour kind of gig, excluding tips-“

Before he could continue, she elbowed his side and let a giggle dance off her lips. His heart soared at the sound and for a moment, just a brief, he felt bad for putting himself and her in this situation. Him because he knew it wasn’t just acting; her because she had no idea that he wasn’t exactly acting.

“You know… Considering that really took me of guard, we’ve kinda nailed this whole dating-thing.” She spoke up again, eyes still focused on what her hands were doing. She was in the midst of adding water to the machine, not doing anything special yet looking so stupidly beautiful and Jake could feel his heart sting.

“Yeah, I think your family and especially Simona is buying it. Lucky for us that the 99 is used to our spontaneous undercover roles and don’t question it.”

“We make a great team, don’t we?” Amy nodded, closing the lid and dusting off her hands. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she finally allowed herself to look at him. Her trembling hands had finally calmed down, and Jake could feel his heart doing the exact opposite; it was beating with a thousand miles pr. hour. On her part, just like blood rushing to cheeks, Amy’s gut feeling suddenly reached her brain. From one split second to the next her face suddenly showed a whole new range of emotion. Affection, lust, need, care. Jake had seen it all before, but never together at the same time and surely never directed at him like now. This, apparently, was a recipe for what happened next. Without even overanalysing and feeling anxious about it, Amy Santiago gently placed her hands on her partners firm chest before standing on the tip of her toes to press her lips to his. Even though it was brand new, having never happened before, Jake knew exactly what to do; what he wanted to do.

His hands instinctually cupped her rosy cheeks in advance to sliding back into her dark, raven curls and gently pulling her closer - if possible. The coffee machine besides them rumbled as the coffee reached its destined temperature, but Jake couldn’t tell if that was it or if it was his brain on the verge of exploding. He was kissing Amy. Amy was kissing him. Mind blowing.

After a few moments of dragging out the sweet kiss, she tipped back down from the balls of her feet. There was no way around giggling for her when she felt his head desperately following hers even as she pulled back, desperately wanting to keep their lips attached. An extra peck or two followed suit, letting her know that this simply couldn’t be the last, before he pulled back. Dazed and confused, he allowed himself to glance over at the living room before quickly turning his attention back to her. Maybe if he looked away for too long she’d disappear and he’d wake up from this surreal dream he was currently in.

“W-what was that for? Simona wasn’t looking.”

She could feel his voice and chest shake beneath her hands.

“Just because. I don’t care about Simona anymore.”

[thatssomental-blog]

Too Coward for the "Coward's Way Out": Living with Passive Suicidal Ideation

TW: This article may be hard for some to read, but is intended to assist others who may be dealing with passive, or active, suicidal ideations. The following text contains details of suicidal thoughts (without intent) and mentions self harm (briefly, and without detail), in addition to depression and it’s relationship with suicidal thoughts. 

So many people label suicide as the “coward’s way out”. If that’s true, then why is it that I feel like a coward because I could never follow through? Passive suicidal ideation is defined as wishing you were dead or that you could die, but having no intention to take your own life. Whereas, active suicidal ideation means one is not only struggling with these thoughts, but may have full intention, or a plan already in place, to take their own life. Passive suicidal ideation is still a risk factor among patients with depression and suicidal thoughts, and just because you are not planning your great escape from this world now, doesn’t mean you should skip out on your therapy sessions. All that being said, it is very real, your thoughts are just as valid, and you are not alone in feeling the way that you do.

Before I continue, I would like to specify that “wishing you were dead or that you could die” isn’t a reference to how you feel waking up in the morning, before you reluctantly drag yourself to work/school, it is in reference to a very real, deep desire to stop living, that may come or go, or may stay with you incessantly, even on your best days when everything seems hunky-dory. I am specifying this, because as someone who suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, the mental illnesses that myself and others suffer through daily are not meant to be #relatable, just because you like things neatly organized or hate your job/school.

My own struggle with suicidal thoughts is a plague that I can't seem to get rid of. I suffered from them long before I even knew what suicide truly was. I was about 14 when the first thought came along, and I clearly remember it. I was putting away the clean dishes and took a knife from the dishwasher. I stood there for about five minutes straight, just staring at it, and thinking that I could just slash my wrist open and the numbness I’d been feeling for weeks would all go away. I scared myself with that thought, put the knife away, and didn’t do it; I couldn’t do it, and I wouldn’t have done it. I can’t remember any other thoughts as vividly as that single instance, but sometimes they were there, and sometimes they weren’t, and every time I had them I could never bring myself to act on them.

Health care is necessary for a healthy life. In the US healthcare is expensive, whether you have coverage or not. Health Insurance, especially with Mental Health included, is hard to come by. Even if you’re one of the “lucky” ones that manages to land a job that provides it, a good plan for yourself, not to mention a whole family, can easily eat up what little bit of wages you work for, and have to live off of. In the past several years, life has been difficult for me, though it was mostly adjusting to living the independent life, learning how to pay bills, and learning how to take care of myself. Despite all of the challenges and obstacles I’ve faced in that time, I was doing pretty well. Even through the trauma of sudden death, which my family is not equipped to handle, I managed. Within the past eight months, I attempted to better my situation by leaving a toxic work environment and moving on to something new. Unfortunately, by choosing to leave that job I also left what little health coverage I had, and since have had to move on to even worse challenges and obstacles, all with untreated, depression, anxiety, body and gender dysphoria, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. If you’ve never been through that, I’ll tell you right now that it is hell, and as petty as I am, I wouldn’t wish anything I’ve been through on my worst enemies.

Factoring in all of the above, with the soul crushing feeling that your whole life and all of your freedom is crashing down around you, like an imploding dumpster fire, it really adds up. In my last few months before moving back home with Mom and Dad, something none of us want to do even if we love our parents with a fiery passion, I was at rock bottom. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but the bare minimum, which made moving day tougher than it already was, and left me feeling hopeless and drained of life. I would lay on my couch for hours, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the wall with an empty mind and heavy heart, it was the worst I had ever been, and I allowed myself to wallow in it, only making it worse.

Even now that I am home, and surrounded by the love of my family, I frequently wish I was dead. I don’t think such things only when everything is going wrong in my life, but the harder times get the more I just want all the pain to go away. I think of scenarios in which I could put myself out of my misery. I own a gun, I have access to others, and medications, not to mention every knife in the block or kitchen drawer that could easily end all of my suffering. But, why is it that despite my desires to no longer deal with life's stresses, my battle with my seemingly, ever changing, gender identity, and my unbridled hatred for the world we live in and the multitude or horrible people in it, do I refrain? Why, when it seems like the only option for peace of mind and escape from the emotions I can’t control, can I not do it? Why, when I wish for the calming embrace of death, do I fear strangers who could kill me in cold blood? Why, if I want to die, did I seek medical attention, without any health coverage, and go to the ER when I legitimately thought I was dying?

Fear of the unknown. I was raised in the Christian faith from a very young age, and was even baptized twice. My mother was raised within that same faith, and my father is an atheist. Despite my current pagan-leaning/agnostic dogma, there is a fear bread into me from childhood that I will burn in hell. Since becoming “woke”, so to say, I have completely denounced the Christian god for what he is. Despite my genuine certainty that this god does not exist, and if he does, he’s actually quite a terrible deity, because of how I was raised, I will more than likely carry that fear of denouncing him and burning in hell with me, for the rest of my life. Religion aside, and taking things from an atheistic perspective, maybe I’m just going into a hole in the ground when I die, but the thought of everything being black forever is also terrifying for me. Even though I am aware that, in this scenario, I will literally not be conscious of my own death, it is almost impossible for me to wrap my head around it, and as someone who has exhibited a very present case of FOMO all of their life, that just doesn’t fly with me. Regardless of whether we go to sit at Odin’s table in Valhalla, or up to a magic golden kingdom in the clouds where everyone is happy and wants for nothing, or we just literally kill over like a toy with dead batteries, no one actually knows until they actually die.

Fear of failure. I have had a very hard time succeeding at pretty much everything I’ve tried in life. No matter what I do, I never feel like the product is good enough. I am my own worst critic, and, on top of that, I am a rage-quitter. If I am not instantly or naturally good at something, I get bent out of shape when I mess it up, maybe I cry, then I quit, and I move on. (Though that statement doesn’t apply to absolutely everything, it applies to a pretty big chunk of things.) One of the greatest fears that keeps me from “attempting” is knowing that if I mess up, I may not recover. Some people are saved at the last minute, and depending on what you’ve done to yourself, sometimes the wounds or the manner in which you’ve attempted will mend. However, if some things are done incorrectly, i.e. putting a bullet in your brain, or a fall that just wasn’t quite big enough to kill you, you may still survive, but there could be permanent consequences such as brain damage, loss of mobility, etc. I’m sure you catch my drift. I suppose this also technically falls under fear of the unknown, because you never truly know what’s going to happen until it does. Sometimes you just have to stop and ask yourself, would you rather be depressed and fully functional to the best of your capabilities? Or depresses and handicapped, and therefore, with your anxious/depressed brain, if it works anything like mine, an even heavier burden on those around you?

Forcing others to suffer. I am very lucky to have an amazing family that is full of love. Even for those of us living a life that others may not agree with, disowning and/or not loving one another is not in our vocabulary. I am very close to my mother and my grandmother, and it would devastate them beyond comprehension. That used to be my only line of thinking, however things have happened and times have changed. Less than two years ago, we buried my grandmother’s youngest child, my mother’s youngest sister, and one of my best friends, who was more like my sister than my aunt, along with her unborn son. Even if I intended to follow through on my own suicidal thoughts, and even excluding the above reasons, I could never force my mother to bury her only child, or my grandmother to bury another grandchild. I also have an amazing SO and friends who would at least be a little devastated, as well.

I just can’t. Ignoring every other reason I have included, I just can’t do it. Despite my fear of death, failure, and hurting those I love most, I just don’t have it in me. It’s not the pain that I worry about, one could easily swallow a bunch of sleeping pills and hope to not wake up, and as much as I hate to admit it, I have physically self harmed before, way back in my teen years. I don’t know how else to explain it, other than I just can’t. I have a huge fear of missing out, if I don’t know all the details of something it will drive me nuts, and I hate surprises. Despite how great it would be to just not have to worry, and despite how hopeless I feel, there is a part of me that knows something better is coming. If I were to take my own life, there are countless things I would miss out on, things I’ve always wanted and things that I may not even know that I want yet. The future is a mystery, and I’ll never find out what it holds if I don’t have one.

Do those things make my suicidal thoughts invalid? No, and though your reasons behind your lack/full intent may differ from mine, they do not make yours any less valid, either.

I am by no means encouraging suicide, though if you ever lose your battle just know that I will never call you a coward when you’re gone. Suicide is the final side-effect of losing your battle with a very real illness, one that may not be visible to even those closest to you.

My parting wisdom is this: Whether you intend to follow through on your suicidal ideations or not, if you take your own life, you will never be around to see it get better. I know it seems hopeless, I personally feel hopeless about 95% of the time, and I know that sometimes it seems like the only escape from not only the world, but your own mind. I really do. I know it hurts, and even if I don’t know what you’re going through, or how you feel, perseverance is the answer, not death. If you are strong enough to make it this far, through all the grief and torment and suffering, then you are strong enough to build your own future. Please don’t take that away from yourself, no matter how much you may want to.

If you, or someone you love is feeling suicidal, please check thatssomental.tumblr.com/resources for a list of suicide and mental help phone lines, chats, and websites.

©thatssomental.tumblr.com 2019